


Exiled

by AryaSnow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-01-10 23:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 49,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12309768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaSnow/pseuds/AryaSnow
Summary: Ned gives her a choice. To leave or to die. But he hadn't expected her vengeance. But like everything between them even that went terribly wrong. Now they are stuck with each other. Banished from the Seven Kingdoms on pain of death.AU.





	1. Snippets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were previously posted as seperate snippets in my collection "From the Lands of Ice and Fire" under the titles 'Unexpected' and 'The magic of Harrenhal' but are part of this story

She smiled at the young handsome son of Winterfell. Who despite his stern face and unsmiling expression had a kind of charm she found hard to resist. She courtesied. 'My Lord. I had not expected a son of Winterfell to be at the tourney.' when she looked back up at his face he was smiling. And her heart missed a beat. Eddard Stark took her hand, bowed and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand. 'I had not expected the daughter of Casterly Rock to be in attendance. A great pleasure seeing such a beautiful woman amidst these rowdy men.' She blushed a little 'My Lord is too kind.' only now she realized that he was still holding her hand

 

* * *

 

 

After that initial meeting their paths had crossed multiple times over the next few days. Their quick exchanges had gotten longer as the time wore on and she couldn't help smiling whenever he was near. Jaime was continuously teasing her for being a lovesick little girl without even knowing whom his twin sister was crushing on. And then the final day. Tomorrow they'd leave for Casterly Rock again. Without Jaime and without a way to contact the young Stark. Would he even want that?

At the grand feast held in Prince Rhaegar's honor she was approached by Lyanna Stark. She supposed that it was the most inconspicuous way of him to get a message to her. They had done it before and Lyanna enjoyed being the go in between. On the condition that she, Cersei, was acting as the one for the Stark girl and the Prince. Lyanna dropped a piece of paper into her lap.

A short time later she excused herself from young Willas Tyrell, who was sitting next to her and quickly walked to the godswood of the castle. It was a large and ancient grove of tall firs and magnificent oaks which grouped around the heart tree. But she didn't care for the scenery just now. When she stepped onto the clearing he had turned his back on her. 'Ned!' she called out softly. 

As she stepped closer he turned. In his hands he held a wreath of flowers. She noticed the blue winter roses and the golden ones from Highgarden. He was smiling as he placed it onto her head. 'You look beautiful Cersei. My Queen of love and beauty.' And without waiting for a reply she felt his hand cup her face and his lips met hers. She hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do. 

But then she closed her eyes and she cautiously returned the soft kiss. Her hands at his sides as he pulls her closer. After what seemed to be a long time and not long enough at the same moment he drew back and chuckled lightly. She blushed 'What?' He smiled. 'You seem to hesitate.' Huffing she stepped away a little. 'It was my first one you fool.' But she was grinning. 


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This as well was originally posted in 'From the Lands of Ice and Fire' under the title 'A hundred betrayals and a wedding' and sets up the story to come

‘You will be coming with me.’ Had been Robert Baratheon’s simple statement. She had still been sore from his latest tries to father an heir on her and had been standing naked in front of her bed. Oh, he had been a sight in those days. Still lean and muscular.

Yet her heart belonged to another. The man whose wedding Robert had just ordered her to attend. To a woman whose place she should have taken. But she had instead been shipped off to King’s Landing after the rebellion. No plea had been able to sway her father.

She no longer had wanted to become the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And yet she was. Had been for almost six moons. And not a word from him. She had hoped to see him at the wedding. Her own and his best friend’s. But he had begged off with an illness.

No word since they last spoke on Robert’s coronation day. She had written a letter almost every day. But never a word back. At one point, she had simply given up. He had lost his interest in her, or so she figured. And now this. His wedding to another woman. A woman neither of them really knew.

‘No. Why should I?’ Had been her reply. She had not wanted to go. To see him married to another woman. To hear him speak the vows to her. To slip from her fingers which no longer had any hold on him. To break the illusion that she had.

‘Because I tell you. And because he’s my friend and you are the queen of the seven bloody kingdoms and it is your duty. So you will come Cersei.’ And that had been that. Robert had put on his clothes and disappeared. They hadn’t spoken about it again.

 

Now only the creaking of the great wheelhouse pierced her thoughts. She could have ridden as she usually did. But she hadn’t wanted to. Had preferred to closet herself away. Not even her ladies in attendance. Only the creaking as the well churned through the mud of the Kingsroad.

She didn’t want to see the banners on the castle towers. The prancing stag, crowned and black on gold, flying high above the lord’s and the groom’s banners. The king was in attendance they’d scream at anyone who passed by the triangular water fort. The king has come to see his best friend wedded.

It was a sight she didn’t want to see. A message she didn’t care to hear. So she bore the creaking and the silence. All the way. Almost two weeks had passed until they had reached their destination. Two weeks she had spent entirely in the wheelhouse. Not even joining her husband and king in the inns and castles at night.

And yet when she emerged from her self-chosen reclusion she couldn’t help but see. The prancing stag high above the gatehouse. The leaping trout, silver on bendy blue and red, and the direwolf, grey on white, flying on shorter poles beneath. Grey clouds hung above the whitewashed walls as the courtyard filled with people.

A lord about her father’s age stepped up and bowed to the king before shifting his attention to her and briefly kissing the back of her hand ‘Your Grace, my Queen. Welcome to Riverrun.’ ‘Thank you lord Hoster. We’re very glad to be part of these happy celebrations.’ It was a well-practised reply. One that took nothing of her.

And then there he was. Robert already had embraced him and he was laughing and smiling. Without any particular will of her own, her lips tightened into a thin line. Handsome he was. All smiles and happiness for once. It should have been their day.

He turned and their eyes met. Instantly his face fell. All the smiles disappeared as he stepped closer and took her hand. Only reluctantly she allowed him to kiss it. Cursing herself how this simple touch sent tingles all the way up her arm and through her body.

His voice was almost too quiet to hear as he whispered ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen.’ She had no time to reply as he already let go of her hand and turned back to Robert. What did he mean? It was his fault after all. He never replied to her letters, never asked her father to marry her. And now it was too late.

Too late for everything she thought as Jaime escorted her to her quarters. ‘Can you please leave Jaime?’ She asked as he made to follow her into the room. Taken aback her twin nodded and remained as guard outside.

Only after the door had closed behind her she allowed the tears to flow. Silently crying as she curled up on the bed. Everything was slipping away. The small little refuge she had built herself over the last moons. Even if it had only been in her thoughts.

In her thoughts he still loved her. In her thoughts he had fought for her. But he hadn’t. This wedding was proof enough. This meek, red headed little girl had stolen him from her. All the smiles he had given her were lies and those given to Catelyn Tully the truth. It hurt too much.

 

Later that day she was woken from her exhausted slumber by her maids. Listlessly she allowed them to bathe her. Dress her for the feast that was given in the King’s honour tonight. And tomorrow. No, she didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d lose him forever.

She sighed as the maids pulled her deep red satin gown over her head. She resolved to get through this evening with as little effort as possible before retiring to her room early. Maybe it would serve to make them, make him think that she was done with their past. That she was expecting Robert’s heir.

She laughed drily at the thought. She had taken care not to conceive from the king. She never would, that was her resolve the night they married and he called her Lyanna. Her maids looked startled. She just waved at them to clean up the room before walking down to the feast hall.

Only to find that she had been placed between her husband and him. Now she definitely had to get out as soon as possible. Eating but little she let her eyes drift over the guests. Just as Robert roared loudly at something Hoster had told him she heard a whisper next to her.

‘Are you alright Cers?’ She turned towards him. Just as she was about to reply, she felt something slipped into her hand. She pretended not to notice as she replied, ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ She felt his eyes on her. Felt the worry. But she kept looking straight ahead. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to admit that she was feeling like horse shit.

Between the fish and the meat she leaned towards Robert who already was well into his cups. ‘I think I’ll retire early tonight.’ Robert looked at her curiously before nodding. ‘Good night Cersei. Don’t wait up for me.’ She was tempted to let go of a sigh of relief at that. At least she’d be spared his clumsy attempts tonight.

When she reached her rooms she was sorely tempted to throw the letter into the flames of her fireplace. But something made her hesitate. Unfurl the scroll and read the few words on the thin parchment. And then she threw it into the fire.

She sat down on the bed. Not sure what she should do now. Should she believe his words? Or ignore them? Getting up she paced. Up and down. Down and up. The length of the room, then the width. Like a caged lioness.

In the end, she threw a dark cape over her dress and pulled the hood up. Becoming one with the falling night as she made her way to the castle godswood. There was nary a soul seen, the courtyard laying deserted as the feast went on in the great hall.

She saw him from afar. A torch in the earth next to him. Again, her steps halted. This was how she remembered him. His sharp cut features illuminated by the weak torch light. And his eyes. All serious again now. And yet somehow these eyes made her stomach lurch.

‘Ned.’ She called out softly and he looked up. Within seconds he held her in his arms. But she was reluctant to return the embrace. Her arms hug by her side. He noticed after a few moments and let go of her. ‘What is it Cers? What’s wrong?’

She snorted. ‘You dare to ask what is wrong? You of all people?’ He looked at her confused. ‘I don’t understand.’ She turned ‘And what don’t you understand Eddard Stark?’ Shaking her head as she turned her back on him.

‘Why you are so cold. What have I done wrong?’ Again she shook her head. ‘Why don’t you ask your fiancé? Why don’t you ask yourself? Not a word. Not one letter.’ He shook his head. ‘I wrote many letters. To you. To your father before the wedding.’

She laughed. It was a sad laugh frull of contempt ‘Sure. And why have I never received them? Why hasn’t my father mentioned them once?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I only know that I missed you. Hoped you’d be here.’

She turned around ‘It’s too late now isn’t it.’ Her voice was quiet and full of unshed tears. Then she left. Just left him standing there in the middle of the Riverrun godswood as she almost ran back to her rooms. That night Robert visited her. Despite his earlier promise. She found that she didn’t care.

 

The next morning she chose her deep green velvet gown. It had been a present from Ned. Maybe that was why she chose it. To show that she didn’t care. Her maid did her hair up in an elaborate braid and pinned it with the emerald studded pins.

On her husband’s arm she entered the sept and took her place in the front row. He was already there. Tall he stood between the Mother and The father. Dark hair brushed out and falling onto his shoulders. A long woollen mantle on his shoulders. Dyed a creamy white and with the direwolf of his house embroidered in deep grey.

Me. He should be standing waiting there for me. Not for the Tully girl. She swallowed. Then the bell began to ring and everyone turned to the doors. And there she was. All in blue and wearing the cloak of her house.

Bendy blue and red where it should just have been red. The leaping, silver trout of Tully when it should have been the roaring, golden lion of Lannister. A grizzled, aging Hoster Tully leading the bride down the aisle when it should have been proud, tall Tywin Lannister.

The ceremony flew by. Drowned in her own thoughts. It should have been her. Only her. Standing beneath the Mother and the Father. Tywin Lannister removing her cloak. The short feeling of nakedness as he did so.

The comforting warmth as Ned placed his own cloak around her shoulders. The tingly feeling as he took her hand. The lurch of her stomach as they said their vows in perfect unison. The feeling of how everything faded into the background when they kissed.

 

That evening, once again sitting next to Robert and Ned, she got drunk. Very drunk. Drowning her thoughts, drowning her feelings. She giggled at the compliments she got for the dress, having refused to change into something else earlier. She wanted him to see.

See her in this dress he had gifted her. The dress he had loved to see her in. The dress she had wanted to wear to their wedding. Oh how naïve she had been then. Suddenly she didn’t want to laugh. She wanted to cry.

‘Meet me in the godswood tonight.’ She startled. Ned was looking at her. Worry in his grey, serious eyes. She felt as if she was drowning in them. ‘Yes.’ Why had she said that? She was done with him. It was his wedding after all.

A brief squeeze on her hand. Again she looked into these incredible eyes. Then she pulled away. ‘I’m heading to bed.’ She announced to no one in particular. She didn’t want to see him carried off to his marriage bed. A bed she should have occupied. A duty she should have performed.

It hadn’t supposed to be. She wandered aimlessly around the castle. Too distraught, too confused, too drunk to return to her chambers. A roar of laughter went up from the hall and she looked up at the brightly lit windows. It was time.

Time to let go. And yet her feet carried her around the castle. Over the deserted courtyard and into the godswood. Only now she saw. The weak moonlight illuminating the ancient trees. The sound of a little stream running through its bed. Rocks covered in moss. Flowers dotting the long grass.

She sat down on a fallen log. Watching the moonlight draw shadows and creating diamonds in the stream. ‘This dress always suited you best.’ A deep voice startled her. She jumped up and turned around.

There he stood. Just as he had in the sept this morning. ‘Did you…’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it. He nods ‘Yes.’ A break. Then she said quietly ‘It should have been me.’ He nodded. ‘It should have been you.’


	3. You win or you die

She was not amused. Or rather she was fuming. He dared. He really dared to summon her? After everything he did to her he still thought he had the right to summon her like she was a serving wench?

She didn’t care that he was the Hand now. She hadn’t wanted him to be. Had tried to convince her husband not to name him. Besieged him to name anyone else. Her father, Mace Tyrell, Doran Martell. Even his sour faced, constantly teeth grinding, younger brother Stannis. But to no avail. It had to be his childhood friend.

And she knew why he had summoned her. Knew he had found out the truth. A truth she had drowned herself in after all the pain and despair she had to endure because of him. A truth that, if it should reach Robert’s ears, would mean her certain death. It somehow shocked her that he was prepared to go this far. After everything.

Her fingers brushed over her dresses. She had resolved to go. Not because he demanded it. But because she wanted to. For a moment her fingers hesitated over the soft, green velvet. She still had the dress he gifted her all those years ago even though she never wore it nowadays.

In the end she was wearing a linen gown in a soft pink colour as she briskly walked to the fountain where she knew he’d be waiting. It was far enough from the main courtyard to not be discovered quickly and usually deserted. As they both knew well.

When she saw him sitting there she hesitated. The pain was clear on his face. His walking stick leaning next to him. Jaime did this she reminded herself. Did this because the little red headed girl had kidnapped her dwarf brother. She hadn’t wanted this. Despite everything she hated seeing him hurt.

He rose. His face as serious as she knew it. Was that a smile? She couldn’t say and it was gone as quickly as she had noticed it. When he asked about the mark she had obtained at her husband’s hand in his presence she involuntarily touched it. The skin had slightly split over her cheekbone from the force of the blow and even multiple layers of creams hadn’t been able to hide it.

He had bluntly stated that he knew. But was there pain in his voice? Regret? She wasn’t sure. And why should it matter to her? She hadn’t betrayed him, had she? The only one she had betrayed was her husband. And yet why did she feel like she had to apologize?

But instead she threw the disappointment and the anger that had been brewing for years now at him. ‘When you play the game of Thrones you win or you die. There is no middle ground Ned.’ Was that a threat? Perhaps. But then so was his intention of telling Robert.

‘But there is a third way for you Cersei. Take your children and leave. Make a new life for you on the other side of the Narrow Sea. I will help you get away unnoticed.’ She just huffed. ‘How gracious of you Ned.’

He sighed. ‘It would give you a way to rebuild your life. Away from his wrath.’ She shook her head. No, she wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let herself be threatened by him of all people. He had destroyed enough of her life. ‘And what of my wrath Lord Stark?’

He just shook his head. ‘Please Cersei. You know I can’t stay silent.’ He paused and she can see pain pass over his face. A pain she suddenly knew didn’t only stem from his shattered knee. It was the pain of what he had to do to her.

And yet it didn’t move her. Maybe one day it might have but those days were long gone. ‘I will not leave. And you will keep your mouth shut on this. Or Robert might be informed of something he’ll like even less.’

Again, she saw that pain pass over his face. ‘I lost you forever Cersei. I know that.’ He sat down heavily. She didn’t move to help him. After a while he spoke again, the regret in his voice piercing her heart. ‘There’s a pier beneath the castle walls.’

‘Leave the castle by the postern gate in the godswood and take only what you and your children can carry. The Golden Wolf and her captain will be waiting for you.’ Only shaking her head, she stood there, leaning against the fountain.

Somehow, she still couldn’t believe that he really would do this. Betray her, risk her death. The death of her children. The death of her twin brother. She didn’t love Jaime. She had used him after Ned had left her life. But he was till her brother.

‘Jaime lives. Then I might consider your suggestion.’ To her surprise he nods heavily. ‘I don’t want to have anyone die because of this Cersei. And maybe after Robert’s temper cools off you can return.’ A bitter laugh left her lips.

‘You know that will never be the case.’ The look that left the grey eyes admitted it. These grey eyes that had once made her forget everything around her. That she willingly drowned in. He rose. His words pulling her from her thoughts ‘I’ll be there tomorrow.’

It was the least he could do she supposed as watched him leave. Slowly he walked past her and it was as if he made an effort not to touch her. But somehow, she felt there was more to this. More to the simple statement. But she couldn’t place it.

A threat? Making sure that she’d be on the ship? Guilt? Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Something that she didn’t want to think about. Something she hadn’t thought about for years. Not since that drunken night.


	4. Restless

When she had returned to her rooms later that night her thoughts still were on the meeting with Ned. Her feeling torn between disbelief and anger. How did he dare to threaten her? Her! After everything that had happened between them he was willing to betray her unto her death.

She shook her head. This was ridiculous. And yet he had, hadn’t he? He had played his cards. Shown her his hand. She supposed that was his way of apologizing. Of giving her a chance. Maybe he did it out of guilt. Or for what had been. Well, she wouldn’t take this chance.

Or would she? If she went she’d be taking him down with her. That was a definite she knew. ‘Your Grace?’ When she saw the concerned look on her handmaiden’s face she realized that she must have laughed out loudly at the notion of bringing on his destruction. An eye for an eye, wasn’t it?

‘I will be travelling to the Rock tomorrow Jaine. See that my things are ready in the morning. Then see to my children’s things but do so without them noticing. I want it to be a surprise for them.’ The dark-haired maid curtsied ‘At once your Grace.’

Sighing she considered taking Jaine with her tomorrow. The girl was able and quick and didn’t gossip. And after all she’d need a maid wherever she and her three children would be going. She turned to address the maid but found her already gone.

Instead a faint knock on the door made her startle slightly. It was late in the evening, who would pay her a visit now? In her private quarters at that. It wasn’t Robert. The King never knocked. He just banged open the door, strode in and took what was his right with nary a word.

Again, the knock. It couldn’t be him, could it? He wouldn’t dare. He wouldn’t visit the Queen in her private rooms after dark. With caution in her step she approached the door and opened it a crack. Only to pull it wide a moment later when she recognized her daughter.

Why had she even thought that it might be him? She lightly shook her head Myrcella entered. The thirteen-year-old was tall for her age and very bright. She had nothing of Joffrey or Tommen. ‘We are not going to the Rock, are we?’

Sometimes she might be a little too bright. ‘What makes you think that Myrcella?’ The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance. ‘You would have told us beforehand and not had Jaine pack up all our things quietly and in haste.’

She didn’t want to tell her. She wouldn’t understand. ‘I wanted it to be a nice surprise.’ Myrcella huffed ‘Fine keep your secrets then mother. But next time try and find a better excuse. You never do surprises.’

She shook her head as Myrcella left. Too bright indeed. Myrcella was a quiet child but she noticed everything going on around her. Again, her thoughts drifted. To Ned. To his thinly veiled threat. To the danger his god damn honour put them all, including him, in.

Walking to the small desk beneath her window she sat down. For a moment she hesitated. If she did this there was no going back. She smiled. This was a game they could both play. There was no going back. She did not want to go back. Look back.

Taking a quill and a piece of parchment, she started writing, a faint smile playing around her lips. For a while only the scratching of the sharpened goose feather on the dried animal skin could be heard. When she was done she folded up the parchment and slipped it into her sleeve.

Not a moment too early as the small side door opened, admitting her maid. ‘Shall I get your Grace ready for the night?’ She nods ‘Yes Jaine. And I have decided that you will be coming with us tomorrow. A faint smile lit up the girl’s features ‘Thank you, your Grace.’

It was an effort not to sigh. Poor girl. With practised hands Jaine slipped of the gown and handed her a shift before starting to undo the pins that held her hair. As she brushed the golden strands she asked, ‘What gown will your Grace require in the morning?’

‘I think I will wear this one again Jaine.’ ‘As your Grace wishes.’ The combing continued and she slowly started to relax ‘And Jaine?’ The combing stopped as the girl leaned slightly forward ‘Yes your Grace?’ Now she did sigh as she ordered quietly ‘Don’t forget to pack my jewels.’ She could hear Jaine’s smile as she replied, ‘Of course not your Grace.’

Such a dutiful girl she mused. Yet after Jaine had taken her leave the doubts returned. Doubts she didn’t want to have. She lay beneath her covers, tossing restlessly. Why had he done this? Why was he condemning her to death or exile? Why had he chosen Robert over her? Why?

She didn’t get any farther in her thoughts when the door was wrenched open and a very drunken Robert strode in. She pulled the covers up. So, this was it then? Had he been talking to the King already, not even giving her a chance of flight?

Robert laughed loudly and pulled the covers away. Another laugh left him as he saw that she was wearing a nightgown. ‘So demure Cersei? We both know that you aren’t. So be a good wife and do your duty to your king.’ And with that he was above her.

Gripping the front of her gown and ripping it apart before licking his lips. She almost threw up. She felt him push into her roughly and closed her eyes. Her face twisting in pain as he took what he wanted.

It didn’t last long. It never did. She felt him spill inside her and with a groan he rolled off. Heavily breathing and profoundly sweating he lay next to her for a long while before sitting up and wordlessly collecting his clothes. Her back was turned on him as he left.

She was aching as she always did after his nightly visits. Forcing herself to rise and wash him off her. She’d need a supply of moon tea as well. She felt bile rise in her throat. With a few quick steps she reached her chamber pot and her entire disgust for Robert Baratheon emptied into the brass bowl.

After that she felt a bit better. That would be the only benefit exile had. No nightly visits from her oh so loving husband any more. A bitter laugh escaped her. What a great prospect that was. She’d endure a hundred nightly visits from Robert if Ned would keep his mouth shut for once.

Where was his precious honour in condemning innocent children to death? Where was honour in betraying the woman he had once loved. Or had least claimed to have loved? Where was honour in sentencing a man to exile and taking away from him what meant the world to him because his sister had used him?

She paced. It was useless to muse about these things she supposed. Eddard Stark wouldn’t change his mind once set to something. He was too stubborn for that. She chuckled drily. Walking back to her bed and slipping beneath the heavy covers. But she knew that sleep wouldn’t come tonight. Her thoughts were into too much turmoil.


	5. Unwelcome goodbyes

She saw him walking towards them. Slowly, pulling his injured leg behind him. His face contorted by pain. She felt pity rise within her but forced it down as soon as she realized it. She would have no pity for this man. Who had forced her away from her family and out of her country.

Joffrey was lounging on the low wall, complaining about being made to wait instead of people waiting on him. She sighed a little. The boy would be in for a rough awakening. No more people bowing and scraping to the crown prince. No more servants to command and do his will.

Myrcella stood tall and proud next to her mother. She could read in her daughter’s face that the girl was uncertain of what lay ahead but wouldn’t budge. She smiled faintly. Myrcella was brave and likely wouldn’t have much difficulty settling into a new life.

Tommen was playing with the leaves and sticks on the ground. He raised his head and she saw childish worry in his young face. ‘Where are Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers and Boots, mother? Why can’t we take them with us?’ She had to think for a moment until she realized that he meant his cats. Smiling she bent down. ‘I’m sorry sweetling. We can’t take them with us but I’m sure there will be cats when we arrive.’

That seemed to placate him enough to return playing with his sticks. When she looked back up she saw that he was standing a few steps in front of her. ‘Cersei.’ She didn’t reply. Just turned to a guard that was standing next to her and handed him a folded piece of parchment.

‘Go to the king and place this in his hand.’ She ordered quietly. Saluting he left. Ned looked after him. ‘That won’t save you Cersei. I come directly from Robert.’ She just snorted. ‘Have you come to gloat? Then you can leave right away.’ He just shook his head sadly.

You know I haven’t. I wanted to say goodbye. It is the least I can do after everything.’ He gestured to the postern gate. ‘After you Cersei. You should hurry now. Before it is too late.’ But it was Joffrey who spoke ‘And why would I do anything you tell me to do Lord Stark?’

She shook her head. ‘Because I’m the Hand of the King and I’m telling you to do something.’ Joffrey snorted. ‘And I’m the crown prince. You cannot tell me to do anything.’ ‘No longer.’ All of them looked at Myrcella.

She looked from her mother to Ned and to her brother ‘You are crown prince no longer Joff.’ With that she took Tommen by his hand and led him down the rough hen stairs that ended in a small pier. A small boat was tied to a metal post and a larger vessel anchored a way out.

Joffrey was left speechless. She used that chance to turn him around and gently shove him. ‘Go now.’ Meekly he went. She followed suit and Ned after her, closing the postern behind him. She looked at him curiously.

‘Less someone draws a conclusion by an open postern.’ He said quietly. When they arrived at the bottom of the stairs Myrcella and Tommen already sat in the boat. Tommen’s eyes were wide open in fright and he snuggled close to his sister who had her arms around him.

Joffrey of course was causing a fuss again. Refusing to step onto the boat, complaining about it not being suitable for him as the crown prince. It was Ned who finally lost patience. Simply grabbing the fourteen-year-old under the arms and lifting him into the boat as if he weighed nothing more than a sack of grain.

She missed those strong arms around her. Shaking her head immediately at the thought. As she wanted to board as well, he held her back. She felt herself pulled around the corner back towards the steps they had just descended.

And then his arms were indeed around her. ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered into her ear before she pulled away. Bitterness in her voice as she asked ‘How many times have you said this to me Eddard? How many times have you apologized and then forgotten?’ She shook her head turning from him.

‘Farewell.’ Was his only reply as he turned and slowly remounted the steps. Something made her hesitate. Something that told her that her letter had reached the king. She watched him approach the gate. It was locked.

He turned and she smirked at him. ‘What is this Cersei?’ He asked. But it was another voice which answered him. ‘If I were you Lord Stark I would join the queen on the ship. It is very unwise for you to return to the castle.’

They looked up. A well-known, bald figure stood on the ramparts. ‘Lord Varys.’ Ned acknowledged. ‘Why might that be?’ The eunuch smiled kindly. ‘The king is in rage. The words treason and traitor were used in abundance.’

The pause that followed wasn’t long enough for either of them to speak before the Spider once again picked up his thread. ‘Your daughters my Lord have been evicted from the castle and will travel north as of tomorrow. Of course, the sudden breaking of her betrothal to dear prince Joffrey caused quite a flood of tears from the older one. The younger however seems to have disappeared.’

She saw the emotions play on his face as the Master of Whisperers added ‘Your belongings Lord Stark have already been brought aboard the Golden Wolf. Farewell.’ And with that he disappeared as quickly has he had shown up.

She saw Ned look at her. Somehow, she did pity him. He might not love his Tully wife but he did love his children as much as she loved hers. This sudden separation must hurt him more than any leg injury. ‘We should go.’ She said quietly.


	6. Bad blood

She hated boat travel. Not that it made her sick but the endless swaying, the sudden lurches and the absolute nothingness of the open sea drove her insane. Yet after settling her children into their shared cabin she left in search of the captain.

The prospect of having to share had delighted Tommen and served to send Joffrey stomping away muttering curses and empty threats. Myrcella hadn’t said anything. Just quietly placed her small pack of belongings on a bunk and had sat down.

She had been tempted to talk to her but Myrcella had made it evident that she did not wish to talk. So, she left Tommen with her and Jaine and went in search of her oldest. Just as she walked up the steps to the main deck a wave caught the boat, causing it to lurch, and threw her against a post.

She cursed. She didn’t curse often but her nerves already lay raw after the recent events. Holding tightly onto the rail she mounted the last steps. When she had taken a few steps in search of her son she came across someone else.

‘Get out of my way.’ She huffed. But instead of doing what she said Ned just stopped and turned towards her. He had seemed to have aged decades in the short time they had been aboard this ship. But no, she would not feel guilty. Rather she was annoyed that her little ploy had only served to have him stuck on this boat with her.

Neither of them managed to say anything as their attention was drawn to the stern of the ship. How could it be any different. Joffrey was loudly complaining and by the looks of it threatening the captain, who only smiled mildly at the boy. Cersei knew her son. It would only serve to rile him up further.

Without wasting any more breath on words, she pushed past the man with his walking stick and mounted the few steps. ‘Joffrey. Captain. May I ask what the matter is?’ The grizzled man at the helm wanted to speak but Joffrey cut him off.

‘He defied my orders. I commanded him to let me stir the ship and he refused. I want him executed as the traitor he is.’ Next to her she saw Ned raise an eyebrow and the captain chuckled. She smiled mildly.

‘Joff, you should let the captain do his duty. I am sure he is a very skilled man.’ But Joffrey seemingly had no intention of backing down. ‘I don’t care. He refused my orders. The prince’s order. He needs to pay for that.’

Before she could try and soothe him further Ned stepped up. ‘Go now Joffrey. You’ve made your point.’ Green eyes narrowed furiously ‘You can’t command me. No one can.’ Ned didn’t budge ‘I am the king’s Hand. I speak with his voice. And I tell you to leave us.’

A wry chuckle left her lips at that. Ned was no more King’s Hand than Joff the crown prince or she the Queen. But that didn’t matter right now. ‘Move out of my way old man.’ Joff growled. Ned remained stubbornly where he was. ‘And what do you want to do if I don’t boy? Knock me to the ground? Come on I dare you.’

Sh3e sucked in a sharp breath. Mocking Joffrey always and in any circumstance, was a bad idea. But Instead of blowing another casket Joffrey simply stomped off. Brushing against Ned as he did but without purposefully knocking him out of the way.

As it happened Eddard Stark wasn’t particularly well on his feet. The short brush served to send him swaying and if the captain hadn’t been so quick Ned would likely have taken a tumble. Not that she cared.

‘Thank you Hengist.’ She heard Ned quietly say. She turned to leave for their cabin when she was addressed. ‘Cersei. Stay if you would.’ And somehow her name from his mouth still made shivers run down her spine. She shook herself.

She stepped back to the two men. When they were sure that no one overheard them, Ned stated ‘Robert will be after us like the devil himself. We have to throw him off our tails.’ Hengist nodded. ‘I stated in the harbour that we were bound for Pentos as you wished my Lord.’

She saw a look of pain flash across his face as he shifted his weight. ‘Braavos might be a good place to go instead.’ Ned quietly suggested. But she shook her head. ‘Volantis. I have a friend there who might be able to help us for a while. And save for my family no one knows about her.’

The two men looked at her. She saw the uncertainty in Ned’s eyes. Hengist nodded ‘It might serve to throw them off your scent until you have settled a more permanent solution.’ He returned to the wheel. ‘And keep that brat away from me or I’ll throw him over board. My Lord, My Lady.’

She had been about to reply when the captain had added the insult like an afterthought. Although it was true that Joff could be difficult he was no brat. Without another word she turned around and dismounted the steps back onto the main deck.

She did not want to return to the stuffy cabin just yet. The silent accusation from Myrcella, the naïve happiness Tommen radiated and the constant complaints Joffrey hurled around were too much for her just now. After a few steps she leaned against the railing, looking out onto the Sea.

A soft tapping on the weathered boards told her that there was company to be expected. Company she didn’t want or need. The tapping stopped. She felt his presence as he hesitated. From the corner of her eye she saw him lean against the railing next to her. Silent.

It was still a lot to understand. Sure, the main points were obvious. Ned had discovered that she had slept with Jaime. Often enough for him to father children on her. He had told her that he will tell the king and that she needs to be gone.

But that was where the questions started. Why had he done that? Why had he given her a warning? Why not telling Robert without a moment’s hesitation? After all that would have been What she would have expected.

She turned her head slightly and watched him curiously. This harsh cut profile. So familiar and yet so foreign. The grey eyes, once lit up in what she thought was love, now staring into the distance. She saw the hurt, the pain, the longing in them.

‘What do you see Cersei?’ His soft question startled her. ‘Nothing.’ She quickly said before turning away. ‘I will tell you what you see. A broken man. A man who wanted to safe you and your children. It has cost him his family. His children. His best friend. His home.’ She felt him shift. ‘For you Cersei.’ He answered her silent question. ‘I did it for you.’


	7. A question of guilt

They were navigating their way through the Stepstones a few days later when she was startled awake from a light afternoon nap. She couldn’t say what it had been. Looking around she saw nothing out of the usual. The same image that was offered to her every day whenever she looked around the cabin she shared with her children.

Tommen was peacefully playing with the ship’s cat, a ragged and scrawny thing. Myrcella sat on her bunk and ploughed through one of her many books. Joffrey sat on his bunk and was idly playing with his dagger.

A knock on the door made her realized that this sound was what had woken her in the first place. Raising she brushed out her skirts before pulling open the door. The face that looked at her was haggard, drawn, pained. She swallowed.

‘What do you want Stark?’ She asked quietly. After their initial conversation aboard the Golden Wolf They hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words. ‘Can we speak?’ She eyed him with disdain. What was there left to say?

Yet she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Maybe a little firmer than was necessary. Her eyes were fixed on his as she asked with more than just a hint of annoyance ‘What do you have to say Stark?’

His face changed. His eyes darkened. Whatever he had been about to say it wasn’t what came out of his mouth now. His voice low and laced with anger ‘Calm down Cersei. You should be more than a little thankful that you and your brood is still alive.’ His face became expressionless but she knew him, heard the despair in his voice ‘Be thankful that you can see and speak to your children every day.’

And even though she understood him, understood his pain of losing his children, she still grew angry at him. Snapping ‘It’s your own bloody fault Eddard Stark. You and your damn honour brought this all upon yourself.’

He shook his head, sadness in his eyes ‘My fault? The only thing I’m guilty off is trying to save your life. To spare your children from death by the hands of a man they consider their father. Tell me Cersei, is that so terrible that you’d rob a man of his family in retaliation?’

Directly she shot back ‘You could just have shut that stubborn mouth of yours and for once shat yon that bloody honour.’ The grey eyes grew even darker as his temper flared. Maybe that had been her intention. Seeing that he was capable of this. Even though she knew very well that he was. She knew him better than most people did after all.

‘Do you even hear your words Cersei? Do you know what you sound like?’ She watched him take a deep breath ‘You know I couldn’t let it happen. Let Robert pass on the crown to a boy not even of his own blood.’

His voice became even quieter as he added ‘A boy like your son. Stannis might be hard and unyielding. But Joffrey.’ He paused ‘Joffrey bears the mark. He would be an incalculable risk once on the throne. Do you want another Maegor the Cruel?’

She sighed ‘I know.’ She simply stated before adding a little louder ‘Do you even know what your bloody honour has caused? Not to you, not to me or my children or brother.’ She waited for a few seconds to create an effect from it. Make him answer the question for himself first before she continued.

‘Your son will call his banners and march south. My father will call his banners and march east. The Old Lion and the Young Wolf will be at each other’s throats and both will sink their teeth into the stags.’

‘War will soak the Realm in blood. Crops will be trampled and fields sown with bones. Brothers will fight brothers and father kill their sons. Thousands will die. By sword, of hunger.’ Her voice was laced with the same disdain that showed in her eyes as she concluded ‘And you Eddard Stark brought this upon the realm you sought to protect because of your precious honour.’

He stares at her for a long moment. Shaking his head as he quietly replies ‘I didn’t take this chance because I didn’t want the realm to be governed by a madman. I didn’t do it because of my honour. I did it to save your life Cersei Lannister.’

His voice sounded tired. As if all the fight and stubbornness that had previously been there had suddenly vanished. ‘Whatever you want to think I did it for Cersei. In the end I did it for you. Once again, I risked everything. For you.’

She saw him turn around and hesitated. But her anger ran to deep to let him go now. ‘You could just have kept your bloody mouth shut Eddard Stark!’ she flung after him before pivoting on her heel and storming back towards the cabin she shared with her children.

She already dreaded the extra week it would take them to reach their now changed destination. But as the captain had so truthfully stated, everyone in the capital knew where the Golden Wolf had been bound to when she had lifted anchor and sailed out of Blackwater Bay.

She was brought up short by his reply. She hadn’t expected him to say anything else. And certainly not call after her with barely concealed rage ‘And do you really think Cersei, that nobody else would have found out about your little secret?’

‘That save for me and Jon Arryn nobody would have figured out who the real father of your children is? I know you know the truth.’ She slammed the door behind her, causing her children to startle violently and drowning his last sentence ‘Apologies you Grace that your life still matters to me.’

She stood with the back against the door, trying to regain a minimum of control over herself. Joffrey whined in pain, drawing her attention. Apparently, he had been so startled that he had cut himself on his dagger.

It was Ned’s fault. It had been him who had riled her up so much that she had lost control of herself. As she stepped over to her eldest to inspect his finger the red cat hissed at her. The cabin filled with the stench of piss and in that very moment she wished she had told the captain to make for Lys or Myr instead of Volantis. Thy would have arrived by now then.


	8. The effects of wine

It was days later, they had just passed the island of Lys, when she finally found it in her to go and see the man who had brought her into this situation. She really didn’t know what had held her back so long. Was it fear? If so of what?

She concluded that she simply had not been in the mood to talk to him recently. Not after their last fight. And Joffrey hadn’t made things better. He was constantly complaining and had snapped at and insulted herself, his siblings, the crew and on occasion even Ned.

She was sick of his behaviour but as it always had been Joffrey had never taken well to being reprimanded by anyone. And so, she left the cabin for Ned’s. She remembered how increasingly haggard and pained he had looked when she had occasionally encountered him on deck.

Just as she had been about to knock on his cabin door the captain approached her. ‘My Lady. My apologies for intruding on you.’ She waved him on ‘What is it Hengist?’ The grizzled man smiled ‘If the wind holds we will be pulling into Volantis Harbour this time two days hence.’ She nods in acknowledgment.

‘Thank you Captain Hengist. You shall be well recompensed for your cooperation.’ Her mouth twisted into a sort of half smile as she added ‘And your silence.’ The captain nodded, returning her half smile. She turned around, back to the door, and knocked sharply before simply entering. She quickly closed the door behind her.

She saw him sigh and clumsily sit up at her entry. ‘What do you want Cersei? If you want to pick another fight… Please leave.’ She noticed how exhausted his voice sounded. How tired. Just how pale his lined face was.

And there was something else. The moment she had entered the putrid smell of decay stung in her nose. Ned was obviously blazing with high fever and the agony had drawn new lines onto his face. She quickly motioned him to lie back down, emphasising ‘You stay put Stark.’

She sighed, trying to hide her genuine concern for him. ‘I’m not here to pick another fight. You’re in no position to hold your own today.’ She only mildly tried to joke as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to his bunk.

A considerable distance remained between them so he wouldn’t be able to touch her in a fit of memory of times long gone. ‘I came to see how you are. And to tell you that we will dock in Volantis in two days.’ She paused briefly, letting her gaze drift over his leg.

‘I hope you don’t plan on dying on me within those two days.’ Her voice betrayed nothing but her mouth twisted into a faint smile. Not the one she usually utilized. A sarcastic, superior one. No, this one hinted at the concern for this man.

She saw the relief as he lay against the pillows once again before he returned her faint smile ‘I don’t plan on dying on you Cersei. Who would you pick fights with if I did?’ She saw the understanding in his eyes even if he joked.

‘I do believe that a healer might be in order when we dock however. She saw the pain flash across his face as he gritted his teeth. She suspected that the festering wound pained him a lot more than he’d ever let on in front of her. Stubborn fool.

‘That you do indeed Stark.’ She had wanted to say something else but instead rose from the chair. She felt as if she shouldn’t stay, couldn’t stay much longer. But instead of leaving the smell and the suffering man behind, she turned to the little, wobbly table beside the door.

A dull brass pitcher and a roughhewn wooden cup stood there and she quickly filled the cup. The wine she poured smelled as sour as Ned’s leg stank of decay. She considered for a moment before something she had once overheard came into her mind.

‘Lift up that leg and pull up your pants Stark.’ She commanded softly as she turned towards him. All it gained her was a questioning look. She rolled her eyes at his hesitation. ‘Just do it Ned.’ Slowly he did. She could see how his face contorted in pain and how sweat began to appear on his forehead at the effort.

His voice sounded weak and even a little fear could be heard in it as he asked, ‘What do you want to do Cersei?’ Stepping up to the bed she didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow as she stated matter of factly ‘This will burn like wildfire.’

She smiled a little as she continued ‘Someone once told me that sour wine like this is good for only one thing. And if it is true it will keep you from dying on me.’ Her face mirrored her disgust as she lifted the edge of the dirty cast. Only with some effort she managed to suppress the overwhelming wish to gag at the smell it gave off.

Raising the cup, she added ‘So you better grit those stubborn teeth of yours together and keep quiet.’ Without any further explanation or hesitation, she poured the entire cup into the small opening she had created in his cast.

She saw the sweat run down his face as he fought to keep quiet. It made her grudgingly respect his resolve. Just as she put the empty cup away he started to smile. Ned Stark never smiled unless he faked it or meant it. Truly meant it.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He couldn’t be thinking of what she suspected. Or at least he shouldn’t. Instead of asking and the possible confirmation of her suspicion she simply turned away and put the cup back on the table.

‘You can put the leg down again Ned. Just don’t’ pull the pants over it again.’ She instructed, her voice being a lot softer than she had originally intended it to be. Still her back remained turned on him as she refilled the cup.

Only after that she returned to the bunk. Holding the cup, she just watched him for a moment. Her green eyes hiding her thoughts as she carefully kept her face schooled into passiveness. Handing him the wine she joked lightly ‘Drink. And hope that it won’t burn a hole into your stomach.’

Her words seemed to pull him out of his reverie. As he stretched out his leg on the bed again it seemed to her that he seemed to be in slightly less pain than before. ‘Thank you, Cersei.’ Even a faint smile seemed to pass over his face as he took the cup and thanked her.

She watched him take a sip. Chuckling slightly as he pulled a face at the tartness. After a few moments he smiled again ‘Well. My stomach still seems to be in working order.’ She rolled her eyes at the joke.

While inside she was more than just a little confused. Jokes and smiles had never been part of Ned Stark’s repertoire. Finding nothing else to say or do she turned around and strode towards the door. As she reached it she turned towards him once again.

‘Get some sleep Stark.’ She opened the door before adding ‘I guess I’ll go search for some more of that piss they pass as wine on this ship.’ Without waiting for a reply, she left and quietly closed the door behind her. Or at least as quiet as she managed in her state of confusion.

Soon enough she had found a sailor and told him to bring some more wine to the resting Lord. It was then that she heard it. A thin wail, almost like a new-born’s first protest against the cruelty of the world, drifted over the water.

She whipped her head around sharply. It was something she hadn’t thought to ever hear again. ‘What was that?’ She questioned the sailor who still was standing next to her. The look on his face spoke of confusion at her question ‘I heard nothing my Lady.’

She shook her head in an effort to get rid of the sound and the emotions it woke. Walking toward her cabin she felt the bewildered stares of the sailor following her. Again, she shook her head. Let him think what he wanted. It probably was a simple sign of her growing exhaustion. A sign that brought back memories she had wanted to bury forever.


	9. Children

She had barely slept that night. Joffrey had been alternating between complaining, sulking and bullying his younger siblings. She had been constantly alternating between reprimanding him, comforting Tommen and worrying about Ned and Myr.

Her daughter had always been a quiet girl. Often Myrcella had withdrawn to read or draw. But she had barely said ten words on the entire journey. It had been more than a week now since they had set sail.

She had made several attempts to get into a conversation with the usually so bright girl who loved debating about the things she had read about. But Myr had remained buried in her books and barely seemed to acknowledge those around her. She only hoped that she would come out of her shell once they had reached Volantis.

She rose early, not being able to fall back asleep. She was exhausted from the journey and the lack of sleep. Figuring that her children wouldn’t wake any time soon she left the cabin. There was nothing she would miss about it.

By now it reeked of cat piss and the sweat of four people living in close quarters for too long. The sheets were dirty and she was pretty sure the boys had lice. Not to even speak of the fleas and other vermin that inhabited the mattresses.

As she stepped up to the railings she saw a coastline emerge from the fog for the first time in many days. She couldn’t help but smile. Then she started to notice the curious appearance of the coast. It shone in a bright yellow with darker patches strewn throughout.

Hearing someone approach she turned slightly. It was captain Hengist. The man leaned against the railing next to her, keeping a respectful distance. She pointed to the shore. ‘What is making those rocks appear in this unnatural colour captain?’ asking curiously.

The captain smiled and took a draw from his pipe. Then he started to explain, ‘It is a kind of rock. Or rather volcanic produce. It rises from the earth in a dark fluid and when it hardens it turns this bright yellow.’

He gestured. ‘And the stuff stinks worse than Flea Bottom.’ He chuckles as he turns to face her properly as he questioned ‘I had wanted to ask My Lady, when we dock do you wish anyone to be informed of your arrival?’

She considered for a moment. She knew her friend lived in Volantis but she wasn’t sure that she would be welcome there. But she would have to take the chance. ‘There is. I would be very pleased if you could send someone to Oona Thereos. She lives within the Black Wall. I will give you a letter for her shortly.’

Hengist bowed ‘As you wish my Lady. It shall be done.’ Tapping his shabby hat in greeting he turned around and headed back to his wheel. She let her eyes drift over the yellow shore once again before turning away and walking towards Ned’s cabin.

Once again, she only knocked briefly before entering. The sight that was offered to her was only marginally different from what it had been yesterday. Yet it was by that margin that he looked better.

He was half sitting, half lying on his bunk, pillows behind his back. He still was pail and pain was still edged on his face. The foul stench of decay still lingered in the stuffy air. But he didn’t seem as close to dying as he had yesterday.

Yet the fever still lingered in his gaze as she greeted him ‘Stark.’ Without giving him much chance to reply she picked up the pitcher once again. Filling the cup, she had utilized before bringing it over to the bed. ‘You look slightly less dead than yesterday. I guess it wasn’t wrong what I heard then.’

He nodded slightly ‘Good morning Cersei.’ He swallowed as he tried to shift a little and had to give up. ‘It did help I suppose.’ As he slowly and painfully raised his leg a little he added ‘Where did you learn that?’ he sounded genuinely interested.

Instead of answering she started to pour the beverage into the cast again. Again, he gritted his teeth and made no sound. After she was done she once again refilled the cup before sitting down in a chair next to the bunk and pressing it into his hands.

Only now she replied ‘I overheard it at Casterly Rock during the Rebellion. I wasn’t sure it would help but it was worth a try.’ He smiled briefly before the pain wiped it off again. Silently they sat next to each other until they heard muffled talk through the cabin wall that bordered with hers.

She wanted to rise but his words stilled her movement again ‘If you need a break Cersei please don’t hesitate to send me Tommen and Myrcella. I think I can cope with a little boy and a clever young lady for an hour or two.’

For a moment she hesitated. Not only because she was reluctant to have her children out of her care, even for a few hours, but also because she wasn’t sure that he was able to cope with them in his state.

‘Tommen is just fine Ned. He usually plays with that rag of a cat and is only concerned about its wellbeing.’ Again, she paused in hesitation. The she continued a lot quieter ‘I’m worried about Myrcella.’ She admitted. ‘She reads all day, doesn’t so much as utter a word and barely eats.’ She sighed deeply.

Quietly Ned sipped the wine. She was glad that he listened without interrupting her. It was one of the thigs she had always valued about him. Only after she had ended he offered ‘Send her over here Cersei. Sometimes one just needs a different person or a different horizon to feel a little less lost and uncomfortable.’

She felt his eyes on her as he said this. Slightly uncomfortable she shifted on the rickety chair. Deciding that a change of topic was in order she said ‘Once we dock Hengist will send a man to a friend of mine. Oona once was my father’s ward and we spent some happy years together before she returned here to get married. I hope we can stay with her for a while.’

She faintly smiled ‘We can rest and recover there and hopefully she knows a healer who can help you with that leg. Better than I could with that wine trick.’ With a faint nod he agreed ‘That sounds like a plan. I wouldn’t have known where to start looking.’

He looked at her and she wondered what he was thinking about. ‘You know Cersei. I hope I will be able to recover. To be able to provide for you and the children.’ He coughed, breathing heavily for a while before being able to recover ‘Even if I wouldn’t be stuck here I would have tried to provide for you. Sent you money.’

His words, those presumptions, made her temper flare. Standing up so quickly that she sent the chair she had sat on crashing to the floor. She didn’t care about it. Instead she snapped at him ‘I don’t need your help Eddard Stark! I never did and never will depend on you and your pity money.’

A mere eyeroll was all the reaction she got from him. ‘Maybe not you Cersei. But what about Myrcella? About Tommen? About Joffrey? They need new clothes, a place to stay, toys and in Joffrey’s case weapons.’

He didn’t let her reply as he continued ‘Think about me what you want. Refuse any help I offer. I do care about your children. About you. Tommen is so sweet and gentle. And Myrcella reminds me of you in your youth.’

That sealed it. That last sentence. How dared he? After everything that had been between them in their youth. He dared to bring that up? She turned on him, snapping ‘I don’t care whom she reminds you off. You have no right to say so. Not after everything.’

‘I am still a wealthy woman and none of my children would ever want for anything. No matter where fate or the stubbornness of some Lord brought us to. So spare me the pity Lord Stark.’ Whipping around in the tight space she wrenched open the door and banged it shut behind her. Bloody Stark. Always putting himself so high and mighty.

As she slowly calmed down her gaze drifted. The shoreline was still bright yellow with dark spots. But now the wind had changed direction. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the smell of a thousand rotten eggs reached her. Flea Bottom was a rose garden compared to this.

Quickly she crossed the corridor below decks and headed towards her own cabin. Just as she was about to enter the cramped space a spell of dizziness caught hold of her. Leaning against the wooden door frame she briefly closed her eyes.

And then she heard it again. That thin wail drifting over the sea. The wail of a child just born. A wail she had waited for and never heard. She took a deep breath, forcing away the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. Telling herself that it was just the stress. That she wasn’t going mad.


	10. Slamming doors

When she entered the cabin, she shared with her children and her maid She opened the door onto one of the countless fights her sons had recently gotten into with each other. With a few quick steps she was next to them and pulled them apart.

Holding the crying Tommen, she slapped Joffrey. She had enough of his behaviour which never changed no matter how much she reprimanded him. Joffrey immediately stopped complaining and stared at her.

His voice was hard and his expression had turned vicious as he threatened ‘It is punishable by death to strike the crown prince. Even for the queen.’ It was then that her patience snapped as she returned without hesitation ‘You aren’t the crown prince any more than I am still queen. So, cut it out Joffrey.’

 Joffrey’s lips tightened into a thin line as he half turned away and gestured to the wall their cabin shared with Ned’s. ‘And whose fault is that mother? He should be executed for what he did to you. To me.’ He turned and sat down on his bunk again, not failing to kick the scrawny cat on his way. Making it his and Tommen wail.

She lost her patience with her oldest entirely then. Striding over and slapping him once again, his cheek now turning an angry red. She snapped at him ‘That man saved your life and threw his in peril in the process. So, you better watch how you speak about him.’

To her great relief he did remain silent and returned to his usual sulking. As she looked around for Tommen she realized that Myrcella hadn’t once looked up during hers and Joff’s heated argument. She walked over to the bunk her daughter sat in.

Still the thirteen-year-old didn’t look up. She leaned down and quietly asked her ‘Myrcella? Is everything alright love?’ But once again she was disappointed as Myrcella merely nodded without even facing her.

She sighed. And even though she was more than reluctant to take up Ned on his offer after their most recent fight, she figured that it might be worth a try. She was worried for her daughter and maybe Ned was right after all.

She stood upright again as she said ‘Lord Stark has offered you to come over and see him whenever you wish. He’d love to spend some time with you and talk a little. Only now the golden-haired head rose from the book ‘I think I might do just that mother.

She rose, closed her book and placed it on the covers. With a few quick steps she had reached the door and left without another word but not without vesting a death glare towards her older brother. She sighed.

After the door had closed behind her daughter, she sat down on her own bunk. A leaden tiredness crept over her and she felt the need to sleep. Just sleep. She felt how the exhaustion slowly claimed it’s due as her eyes started to drift shut.

‘Mother? When are we going home?’ The high, childish voice pulled her back and she reluctantly opened her eyes again. Tommen was standing in front of her, the cat pressed to his chest. With a little sigh she pulled the eight-year-old onto her lap. The cat meowed in protest and wriggled free of the child’s grip.

With a quiet and serious voice, she told him ‘I don’t know if we will ever be able to go home my sweet’ She paused looking at Jaine who smiled a little and Joffrey who still was sulking. She continued in the same tone.

‘I think we will stay with a friend of mine in Volantis for a bit.’ Tommen sniffled and buried his face against her chest ‘I miss Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers and Boots.’ He mumbled drawing a sneer from his older brother and a sympathetic look from Jaine.

She hugged him close before lying down and drawing him close to her. He sniffled and snuggled into her side. She saw how Jaine picked up her sewing once again before wrapping her arm around the child and slowly drifting to sleep.

It must have been several hours later when she was startled from her sleep. The cabin door banged against the wall and Joffrey stormed in. Tommen whimpered but didn’t wake. Joffrey was garbling something about treason and executions. But when wasn’t he these days?

She sat up with a sigh, carefully lying Tommen onto the pillows. The boy shifted in his sleep and she rose. Immediately the red cat jumped onto the bed and nestled against its protector and companion. Taking Joffrey by his arm she pulled him outside and closed the door behind them.

Once they were outside and wouldn’t disturb Tommen or Jaine any further she turned to her oldest ‘What are you talking about now Joffrey?’ She demanded to know. Joffrey was fuming ‘I demanded them to let me take the helm as it is my privilege as their prince.’

She shook her head sighing deeply. She wondered when Joffrey would get it into his head that he no longer enjoyed any of the privileges he had grown accustomed to. She realized that she might have to explain something of what had transpired in King’s Landing to him. To him and Myrcella both.

She turned around and headed toward Ned’s cabin ‘Come with me Joffrey. I think it might be that Lord Stark and I have to explain something to you both.’ And even though he followed her meekly she heard him mutter something that might have been ‘Bloody traitor.’ under his breath.

Deciding to ignore it for once she briefly knocked on the closed door, barely waiting for his call for them to enter before striding in. Myrcella was sitting on the chair she had previously occupied and looked decidedly better than she had a few hours ago.

‘Cersei, Joffrey.’ Ned greeted, his voice noticeably colder at the second name. He gestured ‘Come. Take a seat wherever that is possible.’ She remained standing as did Joff when she said with slight annoyance ‘Joffrey just got into a little discussion with Hengist. Again.’ She looked at her son who pretended not to notice.

With a slight huff she continued ‘I need you both to listen now.’ Again, she fixed Joffrey with her gaze before turning it to the man resting on the bunk. Her green eyes asking for permission, conveying silently /I won’t tell them everything. But they need to know at least something. /

With relief she received a slight nod and an encouraging smile. Looking around she found no other chair and after a slight hesitation sat down on the edge of the bunk. Taking a deep breath as she considered how she could tell them without telling it all.

Looking at her children she finally said simply ‘We are here, on this ship, because your father did not want us to remain within the capital. Within the seven kingdoms. There were rumours spreading through the keep.’ She paused.

An encouraging smile from Ned had her continue carefully ‘Some of these rumours bore truth. The consequences of this are that no one of us can ever return to Westeros on pain of death. It also means that you Joffrey are no longer a prince, nor Myr a princess, me the queen or Lord Stark the Warden of the North.’

She fixed her son ‘Don’t expect anyone bowing to you or giving you the titles you are used to. You will be lucky if people call you Ser and Lady.’ She hesitated to continue. As the silence wore on she felt his fingers starting to caress her lower back.

She almost jumped off the bed at the sudden touch. Wanting to move away was the first think that came to her mind but she remained still. Maybe because she knew this touch. Remembered how it soothed her just as it did now.

With new resolve she continued ‘We will be staying with an old friend of mine until Lord Stark had recovered from his injury. What happens after that is not certain yet.’ Only now she allowed herself to focus on her children’s reactions.

As expected Joffrey was seething and she was worried that he would start to make a scene about something that now couldn’t be changed. Myrcella seemed lost in thoughts. She took a deep breath before gently telling them ‘Please leave us now. And if you ever have questions or concerns we will always be there and listen to you.’

Joffrey was gone before she had even finished speaking. Myrcella followed him slowly but not without turning around in the door. She looked exhausted ‘I know the reasons mother. Neither of you has to hide them from me. I don’t care anymore.’ With that she left, quietly closing the door behind her.

At those not exactly unexpected words she turned to Ned, trying to gauge his reaction. Ned seemed to think for a moment before he asked ‘Do you think Myrcella really knows the truth? The way she said it made me think. She’s a bright girl. Could she possibly have figured out what was between us?’

Before replying she quickly shifted her seat to the chair her daughter had vacated. Shaking her head, she said softly ‘No. I think she figured out that there was something between Jaime and me. She almost caught us a few times.’ Shrugging she added ‘I don’t think she has figured out about us.’ It was highly impossible that her daughter had figured out something that had ended years before her birth.

Ned smiled weakly ‘You should be glad it was her and not Joffrey. Myrcella loves you far too much to ever tell Robert. She adores you Cersei.’ She narrowed her eyes at him. And what about you Ned stark? She thought quietly. Did you not once love me enough to spare me this disgrace?

But instead of hurling this at her she simply sighed ‘I don’t know what is going on in her head these days. She is so distant and formal. I worry about her.’ Ned reached for her hand but she let it fall short as he sighed ‘She’s a growing girl Cersei. She will come to you when she needs you.’

Again, she rose. Not wanting to continue on this topic. Instead she asked, ‘Have you actually eaten anything on this trip or have you been catching rats?’ She was increasingly worried about her daughter but she wasn’t about to share those worries more than necessary with Ned. After all it had been him who brought them here.

He let go of a low chuckle ‘Hengist brings me something morning and night. Stops to talk.’ He shrugged. ‘Seems to be convinced that he needs to tell me everything, no matter how often I tell him that it is you who is in charge.’

Typically men she thought with more than a little annoyedness. ‘He tells me of the journey’s progress from time to time. I’m just glad that we will able to leave this ship tomorrow. Get a bed to sleep in and a healer to look after that leg. Hopefully with more than a few pitchers of bad wine.’

He smiled faintly for a moment before his face took its usual serious expression again ‘I’m so grateful to you Cersei. The wine, the organisation, the redirecting to Volantis. I really can’t thank you enough for that.’

Her lips tightened into a thin line and her eyes narrowed at him in rising fury. ‘Do not dare to thank me Eddard Stark.’ She snapped, unable to hold herself back ‘It was you who brought us all into this damned situation. I’m merely doing everything I can to save my children the worst.’

A sigh left his lips as he quietly said ‘I forced this situation onto you. But I had it under control. You and your children would have had nothing to fear.’ He paused and grey eyes bore into green ‘But as I wanted to return to the keep to get everything settled I found myself locked out.’

She didn’t flinch from the accusation. ‘Had you for once kept your ever-honourable mouth shut Eddard, none of us would be in this situation now. We’d all still be in the Red Keep, living our lives as we had before you thought it a great idea to start snooping after me.’

He kept holding her gaze, remaining calm ‘We both know that it wouldn’t have worked out Cersei. That somebody else would have come snooping after you and Jaime.’ He paused and his next words were barely audible ‘It could have worked once.’

Immediately she shot back ‘Possibly. But somebody decided differently. And even the other thing would never have happened if it had. Nothing of this would ever have happened.’ Even though those words hurt her she still hurled them at the injured, fevered man.

He seemed geniually confused. Asking her back which she had turned on him ‘What are you talking about?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Without a further word she walked out and slammed the door behind her.

Once outside she leaned against it. Fighting hard to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow. She remembered that day. Remembered the pain and the tears. Remembered how much she had wanted it. More than anything she had ever wanted.

She could hear him stumble through the wood between them. Hear his curses as he heavily fell against the door. His question, almost screamed through the door ‘Cersei! What in the name of all the gods are you talking about?’

She didn’t reply. She was too close to blowing and throwing everything into his face which she had held back for so long. After everything he had put her through in the past and the present he still had no idea what she was talking about.

‘Get back into your bed you stubborn man.’ She gritted out just loud enough for him to hear. ‘No!’ came immediately his reply ‘Not before you have told me what you are talking about.’ She shook her head. Maybe he didn’t know. He never had wanted to.

She simply stood up, walking down the narrow corridor and mounting the stairs to the deck. Wandering aimlessly, the thin wail shrill in her ears. A wail she had never heard. After a while she saw Myrcella standing at the railings, looking onto the sea. She walked over and leaned onto the railings next to her. Mother and daughter standing next to each other in silence.

After a long time, she broke the heavy silence ‘I’m sorry.’ She said quietly. Myrcella simply nodded ‘I have known for some time. I probably should have told you.’ Silence fell once again as they continued to stare onto the endless sea.

Then she felt the tears well up again. Fighting them down as she felt herself tense. Suddenly everything seemed distorted by tears and she felt her daughter in her arms. Tears were wetting blue silk and pink lace, soaking blonde curls as mother and daughter clung to each other.

She didn’t know how long they had stood like that, holding each other tightly. At some point they broke apart and she gently brushed away a tear from her daughter’s cheek. ‘I never wanted this to happen.’ She admitted ‘I know.’ Was Myrcella’s simple reply before she pulled her mother towards their cabin.

Already atop the stairs leading to their cabins they could hear cursing and crying coming from the largest of the cabins. With a heavy sigh she pushed open the door, Myrcella at her heels. The sight offered to her made her want to let go of a stream of curses.

Joffrey was lounging on the bed, smirking, and Tommen cowered in a corner, holding the hissing cat to his chest. A bruise was already standing out on his brow. A shallow cut in the centre of it. A dark spot on the front of his pants told her that her youngest had wet himself.

She ordered firmly ‘Joffrey get up!’ He snapped back ‘I don’t take orders from anyone!’ She hated repeating herself, yet she did ‘I told you to get up. You better do.’ She looked from one to the other ‘What even happened here?’

To her great surprise it wasn’t Joffrey who answered but Tommen ‘Joffy pushed me out of the bed. And kicked me. And swore at me.’ He whimpered as he buried his face into the cat’s fur sniffling while Joffrey just scoffed.

It took her another couple of minutes before she had managed to calm them both down marginally. In the end another door was slammed and Joffrey stormed off. She wondered for a split second if any doors would be left intact when they left the ship tomorrow.

Wetting a piece of cloth, she carefully cleaned the shallow cut and dabbed away the blood around it. If this journey continued any longer it wouldn’t be just door that broke.  She didn’t know how long Joffrey would be able to hold himself back.

She didn’t know what time it was when Joff returned to the cramped cabin. It was dark outside, she could see that much. Myr and Tommen were asleep by then. Tommen lay snuggled against her while Myr had swapped with Jaine and now lay in the hammock which was gently swaying with the movements of the ship.

Lying awake in the dark her previous thoughts kept returning. The day’s events having pulled up memories she had wanted to forget. She shook her head, trying to get rid of them. Instead she tried to recall what she knew from Oona’s rare letters.


	11. A welcome face

Another almost sleepless night they rose with the sun. Jaine and Myrcella started to pack up their few belongings while Joffrey watched them and Tommen played with the cat whom he had named Meraxes. She already knew that there would be a lot of tears when her youngest had to give up his newest friend.

Her face schooled into impassiveness, she left the cabin to walk over to Ned’s. As she had before she knocked only briefly before entering. She didn’t even utter a greeting as she picked up pitcher and cup again to repeat her treatment of the previous days.

Everything happened in total silence. She felt Ned’s eyes following her as she administered the wine and replaced the cup and pitcher on the wobbly table. Once or twice he seemed about to speak and she was glad that he didn’t. She was still too angry about what had transpired between them.

Quietly she closed the door behind herself when she left and mounted the stairs to the main deck. With a short nod she greeted the captain of the Golden Wolf before continuing toward the prow of the ship.

The disgusting stink of the yellow shore had been replaced with the familiar fresh and salty smell of the sea. And something else. At first, she couldn’t place it. But when she turned her head and for the first time laid her eyes on the city it became obvious.

The stink of several thousand people and animals living together was a familiar, even welcome one after the reclusion of the sea. The closer they got however, the more she realized how different Volantis and King’s Landing were.

Amidst the delta of the Royne the city sprawled over at least three times the area the capital of the Seven Kingdoms did. The massiveness of the Black Wall separating the ruling nobility from the commoners. Merchants, craftsmen and other denizens had erected their houses all around it. Several bridges spanned the river, amidst then the famous Long Bridge.

Before midday was over they had pulled into the bustling harbour. Here the proud ship was just one in many. Dwarfed by the tall masted merchant vessels from all over Essos. Although the only ones she could place were the purple hulls of the Braavosi and the striped sails of the Lyseni.

After they had docked Hengist sent out one of his men who soon returned with a man who by his clothes seemed some pauper. Only when she looked closely she saw the tiny parchment roll tattooed onto his face.

A slave. It was one thing to know that slavery still existed and quite another to actually witness it. She knew that she wasn’t the kindest lady to her servants but she took pride in making sure that they were paid their due. Slavery seemed abhorrent to her. No doubt her father would disagree.

Hengist handed her letter to the man before joining her in the prow. ‘You seem discerned my Lady. I thought I would see you gladdened by our arrival.’ She continued watching the quays, her gaze following the messenger until he disappeared before replying.

‘I don’t like some of the customs here.’ Hengist smiled knowingly ‘The slaves. It is a good thing that it has been abolished in the seven kingdoms.’ He gestured ‘But Volantis isn’t the worst place to be when you are a slave. There a strict rules and law sees them reinforced. There are worse places.’

She nods ‘Slaver’s Bay.’ Shuddering at the mere notion of it. Hengist nodded again and nothing more was said on the topic. It was more than two hours later that someone approached the ship. The messenger was nowhere in sight.

Instead four strong men bore the weight of a palanquin and another was guiding one of the dwarf elephants hitched to a cart. She saw that the platform of the cart was piled high with cushions and blankets. A shout in the bastard Valyrian of the Free cities drifted up to them and Hengist replied in the same tongue.

‘My Lady. It is time for me to bid you a goodbye. I hope you will find peace here.’ It was a formal greeting but she was pleased nonetheless replying ‘I thank you captain Hengist and for the swift and safe voyage.’ He bowed and she left in direction of their cabins.

She quickly looked into her own cabin and saw Jaine and Myrcella trying to communicate with the men Oona and Ralon had sent. Myrcella’s Valyrian was halting but it seemed that the men understood her enough to come to an agreement.

Tommen was tearing up and burying his face in Meraxes’ fur. With a kind smile but firm hand she took the red cat away from him. ‘I’m sorry that you have to say goodbye to him now. But I think Hengist would miss him dearly. After all who would keep the ship free of mice if not Meraxes?’ But Tommen only cried harder.

Holding the hissing fur ball by the scruff of its neck she carried it outside where she set it down. After one last hiss it disappeared into the hold. Not paying any more attention to it she turned and headed over to Ned’s cabin once again.

‘We have arrived.’ She told him plainly as two of the men who had borne the palanquin entered behind her. ‘Oona has sent you a cart.’ Turning to the men, each of whom was tattooed, she said in the broken Valyrian she had mastered ‘Be careful. Leg broken.’ They inclined their heads and proceeded to the bed.

A short argument ensued between them before they simply grabbed the sheet Ned was lying on, on both ends and lifted it. A pained groan escaped him and she was close to ordering the men to set him down again. But she also knew that there was no other way.

Slowly she followed them and was about to mount the stairs when Jaine approached her ‘Your Grace?’ She raised an eyebrow ‘It is my Lady now Jaine. You should have realized that.’ Quickly the girl nodded before adding ‘My Lady. Those men. They treat me as an equal to the lady Myrcella. I don’t understand.’

A faint smiled passed over her face. She remembered that Jaine only counted seven and ten years. ‘They are slaves Jaine. Volantis doesn’t know the concept of paid servants and therefore took you as a noble or at least someone who doesn’t serve.’

Jaine seemed surprised ‘Oh. And what am I to do my Lady?’ She sighed ‘Continue to serve us Jaine. You will still retain your pay as you did in Westeros.’ ‘Thank you, my Lady.’ The maid curtsied before disappearing again.

She was joined by her children as they disembarked. Even Joffrey seemed reluctant to leave the ship, not knowing what expected him, expected them. She drew herself to her full height, not wanting to show fear as she walked down the narrow plank.

As soon as she had solid ground under her feet she felt unsteady. The sudden lack of motion was surprising her body which had gotten used to the constant swaying of the Golden Wolf. One of the men gestured and once she saw that Ned and his sheet were safely on the card she boarded the palanquin, her children and on invitation Jaine following her.

They moved quickly through the busy streets, the elephant hitched to the cart clearing a path through the busy streets. She had expected that it the going would be easier once they had passed into the precinct surrounded by the black wall but that wasn’t the case.

Myrcella and Tommen took turns looking out from behind the curtains and from the small glances she got the streets didn’t look much different. Except the ones inside were actually paved in some stone she didn’t know.

Without so much as a warning the palanquin stopped and the curtains opened. Slaves, the same that had carried the palanquin, helped her out and she offered a brief smile in thanks. When she reached solid ground again she stood in the courtyard of a sprawling mansion.

High columns carried the roof over open corridors. The walls and pavement seemed to be made from light grey granite and marble. A groan drew her attention to the cart that bore Ned. A tall man was instructing the slaves in rapid Valyrian before they bore him away.

Then he turned around and smiled. Approaching her and the children. Tommen hid behind her and Joffrey bristled somehow. ‘Lady Cersei.’ He said in fluent even if heavily accented Common Tongue ‘Welcome to my house. May you find peace and rest here.’

She inclined her head briefly in acknowledgment ‘Master Ralon. I thank you and gladly accept your offer of hospitality.’ She was glad that her septa had insisted on teaching her the customs of greetings from different places of Westeros and Essos.’

The man’s smile broadened. Then he dropped all formality and hugged her briefly. ‘I fear Oona is already quite excited to meet you and your children.’ Just as he had finished speaking his wife almost ran out of the large marble arch that marked the entry to the living quarters.

A bright smile lit up her face as she recognized her childhood friend ‘Oona! I’m so glad to see you.’ She didn’t get much further before being squeezed half to death by her. They laughed before she quietly said, ‘I’m sorry for bringing this onto you and your family.’

But Oona only smiled and shook her head. ‘Don’t fret dear friend. After all you and your father did for me in Westeros I can house you and yours for a few weeks.’ She hugged her in gratitude. ‘I had rooms and a bath prepared for all of you. Please follow me.’


	12. Unwelcome thoughts

Oona led her and her children through the marble arch and into a spacious receptions hall entirely covered in white marble. Throughout the walls were built in niches with grey marble benches and pillows on them.

As she followed Oona she saw a courtyard surrounded by an open colonnade. Where it wasn’t covered in intricate mosaics, grass grew between small fountain ponds. Their steps echoed as they walked towards their rooms and she realized that she had never seen a more luxurious palace in all of the seven kingdoms. And Ralon wasn’t even among the richest of the Volantene nobles.

Her breath stopped for a moment as Oona opened a door and led her into a beautiful room. ‘I had a bath drawn and some snacks brought in here earlier. I hope you enjoy your stay here my friend.’ She was still gazing around as Oona chuckled softly and left.

The walls were panelled in a rich, dark wood with gold inlays and the floor was white marble with a beautiful mosaic in the middle. Heavy brocade curtains were drawn from the window and the soft afternoon sun illuminated the rich interior.

Only now she noticed the slender woman standing quietly besides the heavy bronze tub. A diamond beneath her eye indicated her as one of Oona’s household slaves, presumably a personal maid. The girl looked up as she addressed her in broken Valyrian.

She barely understood what the girl was whispering to her feet except for the Valyrian word for Lady and a name, Seliza. With a kind smile she ordered Seliza to help her undress and after she had done that to wash her hair. Quietly the young woman went about as ordered.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the edge of the tub and felt how the hot water and Seliza’s skilled hands slowly drained the stress and tightness away from her muscles and body. She felt herself relax for the first time in many weeks.

Too quickly urgent whispers drew her back from the comfortable doze she had slipped into. Seliza was holding out a towel to her. With a sigh she rose from the warm water and immediately felt the soft fabric wrap around her sore body.

While she was still drying herself off Seliza had scurried to the bed that dominated the room and was indicating a soft blue dress. She let go of a stream of Valyrian of which Cersei didn’t understand a word. But she was under the impression that Seliza was desperately trying to do everything right.

She presumed that the girl would be severely punished should there be just a hint of doubt that her service wasn’t to her satisfaction. She sighed, wanting to tell her that everything was alright but she lacked the vocabulary and therefore just smiled softly at the young woman. She wondered where Jaine had gotten herself to. Or her children for that matter.

At least the first question was answered when a hidden door opened and her maid stepped inside. Jaine had obviously taken a bath as well and was wearing a simple dress like the working class of Volantis did.

‘Lady Cersei? The lady Oona and her family are awaiting you in the atrium.’ She nodded ‘Thank you Jaine.’ The maid nodded and quickly started braiding her hair over the delicate silk gown Seliza had helped her into. The latter shrunk away from the Westeros maid, fear in her eyes.

‘What is it with her Lady?’ Jaine asked curiously eyeing the slave. ‘She fears to get punished for doing something wrong’ She didn’t want to admit to her maid that she didn’t even have the words to defuse the slave girl’s fears.

To her great surprise Jaine turned around and started to address Seliza. After a moment the girl relaxed ‘Where did you learn to speak Valyrian Jaine?’ She wondered. As far as she knew her maid was born and raised in a village close to Longtable in the Reach.

It was Jaine’s turn to look at her feet, admitting ‘Your daughter taught me on the voyage here Lady. She thought that I would need it wherever we went.’ She smiled softly at Myrcella’s foresight ‘That was very kind of her.’ Jaine nodded ‘It was Lady. But now you really should go. They will all be waiting for you.’

While the two young woman left through the hidden servant’s door she stepped out into the colonnade. It didn’t take her long to find the courtyard with the fountains again. A table had been erected on a corner of the mosaic and she spotted not only her three children but also her friend, Ralon and their children.

She sat herself between her daughter and her friend and let her gaze wander. The table was richly laid with a light lunch. She spied goat cheese and olives, some kind of bread and fish. And a lot of things she did not know but looked and smelled delicious.

A constant stream of complaints reached her from her right where Joffrey was sitting next to a very handsome young man only a little older than himself. Seeing as no one reacted to it, either because they didn’t understand or because they ignored it, Joffrey soon became quiet.

She broke off a piece of bread and took a sip from the cool and very delicious white wine in the goblet in front of her. Myrcella was conversing in fluent Valyrian with Oona’s son and Tommen chattered away to one of her daughters. Neither of them seemed to understand each other as Tommen was speaking the common tongue and the girl Valyrian.

Quietly Oona pointed out her family members to her. The oldest girl was already married off and living with her husband’s family. Then there was the handsome boy Myrcella had taken to and who was called Faolan. She chuckled. The name meant wolf in the bastard Valyrian of Volantis. How fitting she thought.

Two more daughters followed, plain girls of whom she forgot the names as soon as she heard them. And Gilia. Her friend’s youngest. A six-year-old with thick and long black hair and the delicate face she shared with her brother and her mother. She’d grow up to be a true beauty she suspected.

Sighing softly, she realized that she couldn’t even start to follow the conversations around her as they all were in Valyrian and her skills in that language were basic to put it friendly. She had never shown much interest no matter how much her father wanted her and Jaime to learn the language. Jaime hadn’t either.

With a start she realized that this was the first time she had thought about her twin brother. Tyrion? Yes, she would have understood that. She could spend weeks without thinking about the little monster if she didn’t have to.

But Jaime? Jaime was different. Not only was he her twin brother, he had also been her lover and was the father of her children. And she hadn’t wasted a single thought on him. What had happened after she had left?

She knew that he had left the city and along with that the King’s justice after the fight with Ned. But after that there had been no word. And Oona hadn’t been able to provide any information on the political situation either.

She recalled that Ralon had mentioned something like flaring tempers and her father massing his troops at the Golden Tooth but even he had to admit that he didn’t know how much truth there was in sailor’s gossip.

She suddenly felt anxious. Quietly she excused herself and under the worried look of her daughter she hastened away. Something inside her told her that Jaime was still alive but if there was truth in those rumours then there would be war. A war she had prophesied Ned on the ship.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see the man that had appeared in front of her. She snapped something that was probably considered rude in every language and only when he responded in perfect common tongue she realized that she had uttered her insult in Valyrian.

Taking a closer look at him she saw an elderly man who despite his age still stood tall. His robes somehow resembled those of the maesters of Westeros. Behind him a young man stood calmly, holding a satchel. Not a young man she realized at a second glance. A young woman with close cropped hair, posing as a young man.

Interesting she thought before shifting her gaze back to the old man ‘Who are you?’ She enquired curtly. The thin lips pulled into something like a smile and he bowed briefly, his assistant copying the gesture.

‘My name is Aleros my Lady. And this young man is called Alleras.’ Her eyes narrowed at him ‘And what is a man from’, she took a moment to place his accent ‘Qarth and a Dornishman with blood from the Summer Isles doing in Volantis? In this mansion?’ She saw the young woman who called herself Alleras raise an eyebrow and knew she had been right in her guess to her heritage.

Again, Alleras remained silent as her companion picked up the question ‘I used to study at the citadel and that is where I met this young fellow. Neither of us liked the ways of teaching and knowledge there so we left in search of better teachings.’

‘We travelled almost the entirety of Essos when the call of an old friend reached me. And so, we came here. Attending to the Lord Stark.’ She involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath at him mentioning the name of her involuntarily forced travelling companion.

But before she had a chance to comment he continued in the same soft tone ‘It seems that there was an able, yet not very skilled healer on your ship. That cast among other things reeked of sour wine. An interesting method to combat infection I must say.’ Alleras chuckled and she threw her a death glare.

‘Can you safe the leg?’ She asked not even daring to ask if it wasn’t too late for the healer to do anything. She didn’t want to be told that now that they were finally in something resembling safety, Ned would inevitably die from the infection.

Aleros smiled again ‘He will have to undergo extensive surgery but I am fairly certain that he will make a full recovery. He will however retain a limp for the rest of his lifetime.’ She nodded. If that was the price for his life then they’d pay it.

She nodded briefly ‘Thank you Master Aleros. And to you Alleras.’ Both inclined their head and Alleras had already turned to leave when her teacher added ‘Lady Cersei. Please make sure that he remains in the position he now is in. Any further movement could damage the bone further and then I fear even the best healers won’t be able to safe his leg.’

Her lips pinched into a thin line ‘I thank you Aleros.’ She said curtly dismissing him. ‘Lady.’ He replied with another bow before taking his leave. Only now she realized that once again she had entirely forgotten about her twin brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I will try to return to my previous a chapter a day schedule. Meanwhile I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	13. So beautiful

Still fuming from the insolence of the self-important healer she strode through the mansion. Her intention had been to return to either her room or the atrium but after a while she had to admit to herself that she was lost in the ever same looking marble corridors of the sprawling mansion.

Since there was no servant to be seen she tried to retrace her steps back to the entrance hall, the marble walls throwing back the echo of her steps. Somewhere she must have taken a wrong turn once again because when she turned a corner it was a dead end.

She was about to turn back when a soft, pained moan drew her attention do a door to her left. She approached it cautiously and found the door not fully closed. Something within her made her push it open further.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. The same rancid smell that had lingered in Ned’s cabin on the Golden Wolf hung in the air. She looked around. Compared to her own room this one was plain. The floor was the beige marble that also was used in her room, just as the walls were panelled in Ironwood. But that was where the similarities ended.

The furniture was plain. Or plain in comparison to the on in her room. A pair of shelves, a desk and chair, several sets of drawers, a nightstand and a bed. It was a narrow thing, not much wider than the bunk on the ship. It faced away from the door, towards the high windows over the desk. Sunlight streamed into the room and illuminated the sweat stained face of the occupant.

His eyes were closed but he was smiling faintly. ‘How long do you plan on standing there and watching me Cersei?’ She jumped a little when he addressed her. She hadn’t realized that he had noticed her. His voice was soft and somewhat dreamy. She supposed he had been given drugs against the pain.

Cautiously she approached him. ‘Stark.’ Greeting him rather curtly when she stood in front of the bed. Someone had undressed him and a white sheet covered him from knee to navel. She tried not to let her gaze wander too much but her eyes didn’t want to obey her.

Despite him not being young anymore at thirty-seven he was still a handsome man she realized. His face showed few lines and there was no grey in his hair yet. The muscles of his torso were still very toned. She swallowed and could have sworn that in that moment he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Then her gaze drifted lower, to where the sheet revealed his lower legs. It was the first time she saw the wound the spear had inflicted. Only it wasn’t just the flesh wound where the spear had pierced the bone right below the knee, entering at the back and coming out the front.

The skin had turned black and cracked all along his lower leg, puss oozing from those cracks. The flesh she could see in some of the wider cracks was brown and in some places even green. Wild growth covered the area around the original wound.

In that moment she realized that Ned wasn’t any further from losing leg or life than he had been on the ship. She forced to keep her emotions off her face when she felt his eyes on her. Taking a deep breath as she asked ‘Has Aleros done anything to help you yet?’

Her voice wavered a little and she was annoyed at herself for it. Ned still smiled in that slightly scary, drugged way he had been since she had entered her room ‘Except removing the cast and washing it no. Only dosed me full on something that decidedly wasn’t milk of the poppy.’

She nodded and turned to leave ‘You should sleep Stark.’ She said quietly as she reached the door. But then he extended a hand towards her. It trembled with the effort and she could hear the strain in his voice as he whispered ‘No. Please stay. Please Cersei.’

She swallowed again. Seeing the hand reaching for her and then when his strength gave out falling back onto the sheets palm still open and facing her. Slowly she walked back to him. His eyes were closed again and he was panting as if he had just run from the Red Keep to the Sept of Baelor. She stood and watched silently.

Forcing herself to ignore the searching hand and keeping her eyes on his face. After a while his breathing and calmed down and from the regular raising and falling of his chest she could have sworn that he had fallen asleep. Turning away once more to leave him to rest.

‘You are still so beautiful Cersei. Even more beautiful than you were that night in Riverrun.’ She turned on her heel and raised her eyebrow ‘What has the old man given you?’ But he didn’t answer ‘So beautiful.’ After that he fell silent and after a few moments even started to snore softly.

As she left the room she was even more confused and disturbed than before. Was it possible that he still had feelings for her? After all this time. After all that had happened since they had last met in Riverrun and then again, several years later during a tourney. Why were it always tourneys?

Jaime had won that tourney she recalled. It had been a big one in order to celebrate the arrival of the Crown Prince who by then had already been over a year old. He had brought his heavily pregnant wife with him that time and in her anger, she had managed not to talk to him at all. But they had exchanged glances all throughout the feast.

Could it be that he still loved her? Still felt what he did all those years ago? She had sworn to herself that she was done with him, with their forbidden relationship. That she wouldn’t fall for him again. But then why was she so confused by his words. She had taken another lover after him.

A lover she did not love. She laughed drily at the thought of those sometimes awkward encounters with her twin brother. She was pretty sure that Jaime felt something for her that might be similar to what Ned felt. It had gone so far that he had defied their father and joined the King’s Guard.

But for her it had always been more a distraction, a need to be satisfied. If Jaime had gone off and married she would have found herself a different lover. Or maybe she would have resigned to her fate and stayed with the husband her father had forced onto her.

For years after that tourney Ned had remained in the North, his wife popping one child after the other. She had also heard of a bastard son of his living up there. She had even seen the boy when they had been to Winterfell and Robert made his old friend his Hand.

She had known that it couldn’t work. That it never would. Ned and her in the same city, the same keep. The two people closest to the King. Robert Baratheon had been the one who stood between them and she had tried for the short time that they shared the Red Keep to stay away from both men as much as she possibly could.

The few times she had to see, to talk to him she had hidden behind a mask of hatred. But had it been a mask in that moment? She had been so disappointed by him. That disappointment had festered over the years. Had turned into the hate that showed when she had ordered him to kill his daughter’s wolf.

‘Cersei!’ The soft call in the melodic accent of Volantis pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up and realized that her feet had carried her back to the atrium of the mansion. It seemed quiet, only the water from the fountain creating a regular stream of background noise.

Oona was still sitting at the table where they had taken lunch when she had so abruptly left. But her husband, her daughters and Joffrey and Tommen had left. She saw Oona gesture and after a short moment joined her friend.

Who gently pushed a bowl with something she couldn’t quite place towards her ‘Here try this. You must be starved.’ Without protest she gingerly picked up the spoon and tried something of the food. Only now she realized how hungry she was.

Her friend chuckled ‘Slowly Cersei. Nobody is going to steal it from you.’ Blushing slightly, she slowed down before asking ‘Where are the others?’ ‘Ralon went up to the Big Hall, Joffrey went to rest, the older girls to study and Gilia decided to show Tommen her cats.’

That made her smile ‘He will be happy about that. He used to have some in King’s Landing.’ A high-pitched giggle drew her attention to a bench that stood half hidden behind some high bushes. Myrcella and Faolan apparently had decided to continue their conversation in the privacy there.

In the first moment she was glad that Myr had found someone to talk too. Her daughter was already livelier, more energetic than she ever had been in the capital. But that smile, those careful glances reminded her of something and it worried her. More than she could say.


	14. Promises made, promises broken

It wasn’t until several days after their arrival that she began to fully relax and recover. She felt more like a living being again. Her appetite returned and when she looked in the mirror the haggard look and the dark circles under her eyes had begun to vanish.

The bone deep exhaustion that had been her constant companion over the past weeks wore off and she realized that she had started to gain weight again. She hadn’t noticed how much she had lost until she had tried to wear one of her dresses she had brought from the capital and realized that it hung on her like a sack.

Her children as well seemed to recover well. Myrcella’s pale cheeks regained their rosy colour and her daughter seemed a lot more energetic. She was sure that Faolan, Oona’s son, played a big part in that. Whenever she could she kept a close eye on her daughter, ready to step in should this harmless friendship develop into something more.

Joffrey as well had taken to the older boy. He was decidedly less aggressive since Faolan and Ralon had convinced him to take part in the elder’s daily fencing lessons. As expected he was not amused that Faolan had no intention of letting his win anything he didn’t work for but it seemed that this, as he called it, insult had sparked his ambition.

Tommen, she had rarely seen over the past days. The boy had only made brief appearances at the meal times and then vanished again with his new friend, Oona’s daughter Gilia. From what she had gathered they still had no common language but they had one passion they definitely shared. Once he had proudly shown her the six grey and white bundles that clumsily climbed around their mother.

Everything could have been good and moving towards better times for her and her children if there hadn’t been one thing that tied the, tied her down. And that was the man who had brought them all here.

Ned and his still healing, still rotting leg. She had been to visit him in the secluded room she had discovered when she had searched for the atrium a few days ago. His state remained largely unchanged, drifting in and out of drug induced sleep and rarely able to talk coherently. At least, she mused, he hadn’t acted the way he did that first day.

His sudden admission had confused her and the longer she thought about it the angrier she had become. Even though she had originally put it down to the drugs, she wasn’t so sure about it anymore. She supposed it was easier that way, to blame the drugs. After all this time, after all that had happened she was dead set not to repeat the mistakes her foolish seventeen-year-old self had made.

She had spent a lot of her time since their arrival sitting in the atrium with Oona and talking. They had a lot to catch up with. So many things had happened since Oona had left Casterly Rock half a year before the rebellion. Too much to write it all down in the occasional letter that had made its way over the Narrow Sea.

Other hours were spent walking the various markets inside the Black Wall with her friend, her daughter and Oona’s oldest daughter who regularly joined them. Grazie had married one of the sons of one of the major members of the Tiger’s family and was proudly bearing her pregnant belly with their second child.

Those excursions were a welcome change. All the colours and smells, the rich dresses of the equally rich ladies. She had to admit that she was slowly falling on love with the city of her banishment. It was a bright, bustling city full of life. Far more than King’s Landing had ever been or would ever be. Even her Valyrian had begun to improve.

But amidst all the joy and fund there always was darkness lurking. Sometimes in form of her daughter and Faolan flirting maybe a bit too much. And sometimes it was that titbit of information about events in Westeros Ralon passed on to her.

Most often though it was Ned and his leg. Lying in that room, unable to do anything but sleep and mumble incoherently. Even though she knew that the drugs that brought on this state had slowly been replaced over the past days and Aleros had promised that Ned would soon be present again. But it was slow.

With a sigh she rose from the reclining chair in the sunlit small atrium where she had tried to relax for a few hours. But relaxation was something that had increasingly evaded her over the past days. With a sigh she walked back inside where her feet, as if they had developed a will of their own, carried her the now well-known way to the secluded corridor and Ned’s room.

To her surprise she heard distinct talking coming from the partially open door. Or rather a low mumbling but when she stood in front of the door she could understand the words. After a few moments she could make out a jumble of Valyrian and Common Tongue.

Slowly she pushed open the door, cautiously if he should have visitors. But he was alone, a book in his trembling hands as he apparently was trying to make sense of it. It made her smile slightly. But immediately she wiped it off again.

Stepping up to the bed she remarked ‘Getting bored lying around already, Stark?’ The book fell from his grasp onto the floor as he jumped and then drew a sharp breath as the movement caused new pain to well up in his leg. She regretted not knocking as she approached and quietly said ‘I’m sorry. Thought you had noticed me already.’

He shook his head but then a softly, still slightly drowsy, smile appeared on his face ‘Cersei. No, I didn’t hear you. Please, sit down with me for a moment, will you?’ He indicated a chair that stood close to his bed. But as always, she remained standing.

‘How are you Stark?’ Still she stuck to his last name, a safe refuge that offered no room for unwanted memories. ‘I think you know that better than I do right now. But more importantly how are you doing Cersei?’

With slight hesitation she replied ‘I’m not complaining. Oona and her husband have been very kind and the children are settling in well.’ But she was complaining. Or rather she was increasingly worried and therefore complaining.

Quietly she admitted ‘Myrcella is getting too close to Oona’s boy. Faolan. I don’t particularly like it. Once Aleros deems you fit enough we should start looking for a house that suits our needs.’ Why was she even admitting this when all she wanted was him to get well and go his own way? Preferably to another city. But those words didn’t manage their way past her lips.

She saw the uncertainty in his face as he asked, his voice still hoarse and weak ‘Why are you so enraged about Myrcella finding friend in the young lad? Perhaps more than a passing fancy. If Oona and her husband agree why shouldn’t a Baratheon marry their son?’ She huffed and with more than a little effort didn’t manage to snap back too harshly ‘It’s not about a name or a marriage.’

It’s about me losing my only daughter to an almost stranger. It’s about watching them be the way we used to be. It hurts Ned. It hurts so much. She’s repeating her mother’s mistakes and I can’t find it in me to stop her.

But she said none of this aloud to the man lying in front of her, his face as pale as the sheets beneath him. Instead she bit everything back and now finally for the first time pulled up a chair and sat down. As he had always Ned seemed to sense that what she told him wasn’t everything that was on her mind.

‘About what is it then? Talk to me Cersei. Tell me about your worries, your thoughts. Please. I would like to help you. And Myrcella if she needs it.’ And after a pause he quietly added ‘She visited me a few times. Told me about her young man.  She was happy.’

She noticed that his hand had fallen onto the sheet between them, palm facing upwards, as if by coincidence. Which she knew that it wasn’t. ‘It’s not important now.’ She mumbled and forced her gaze towards his leg, away from the plea of his reaching fingers.

It was still uncovered and, so she thought, looking slightly better. Or maybe she was just telling herself that. The skin was still black and cracked, puss oozing from the brown, rotten flesh. But he seemed to be in less pain than before.

Quietly she asked, ‘Do you remember the day we arrived here?’ Drawing her eyes away from his leg she saw his smile widen ‘Yes. That leg looked like it had gone beyond any skills to heal. I thought I’d die. But I didn’t and I suppose it does look better now.’

She nodded absent minded, her thoughts on something else entirely ‘Do you remember what you said to me that day? Before I left?’ His face became serious as he slowly nodded ‘I do. I said you were beautiful. And I meant it.’

She willed down the emotions that those words managed to pull back up, scoffing ‘I looked almost as dead as you did. I had rings under my eyes the size of Casterly Rock and I think I lost several stone.’ Yet despite her denying words something Oona had said to her once. Only children, drunks and drugged tell you the truth.

His soft voice pulled her back ‘Despite all that Cersei. You still were, are the most beautiful woman I know.’ Again, those words sent her back to a different time, a different place. The same words, the same tone. A different Cersei.

Scoffing she stated, ‘Your mind still is clouded by the drugs I think Stark.’ He chuckled quietly ‘Perhaps. But not as much as before. I meant what I said. To me you still are the most beautiful woman. It is the truth Cersei.’

Abruptly she stood up. Unsure what to do, how to react when she was saved, unknowingly, by a slave who brought in a tray with a sliver brimmed glass goblet and a silver pitcher. Quietly he placed the tray on the desk beneath the window, bowed and left as quietly as he had appeared.

She let go of a breath she hadn’t even realized that she had been holding. With a few short steps she had walked over to the desk and poured herself a good measure. ‘You are still tense Cersei. Why?’ His questioned echoed quietly behind her back.

Without a reply she downed the entire goblet and almost gagged at the heavy sweetness that instantly filled her mouth. After regaining her composure, she refilled the goblet and turned back to the bed. As she handed it over she warned ‘Drink slowly. This is no ordinary wine as we know it.’ Sitting back down she fell silent, ignoring his question.

‘Thank you, Cersei.’ As he raised a weak hand to take the goblet, their fingers briefly brushed against each other. As if they had been burned she quickly pulled back her hand. Somehow, she was now sitting much closer to the bed than before, her knees almost touching the wooden frame of the bed. At the same moment she scolded herself.

Why was she doing this? Why was she even still here? Why did she still care? It was over. Whatever had once been between them was a thing of the past. It had been over the moment she had been forced to marry Robert. But had it really been?

He only took a small sip before handing the wine back. ‘Has something happened? Did Aleros tell you something that disturbed you? Has Joffrey done something that brought him into trouble?’ She felt the worried grey eyes seek hers.

Shaking her head, she tried to defuse his worries ‘No, nothing happened. Everything is alright, Ned.’ And there it was. That nick name she had avoided to use since Robert had dragged her to Winterfell. Yet she knew that her tone implied that in contrary to her statement nothing was alright. She averted her eyes, not able to hold his gaze any longer.

His voice became urgent as he pleaded ‘Please. Talk to me. I can see that something is bothering you. I can hear it in your voice.’ There was a short break as he tried to take another sip of the wine but soon gave up to try and swallow the rich and sweet liquid.

Again, she shook her head ‘No I’m fine, really.’ She took a deep breath before stating confidently ‘I should let you rest. You have already had enough excitement for the day.’ Yet she made no move to rise from her chair.

She was torn. Torn between staying here at his side and squabble away until night fell and to get out of this room as fast as she could, as far as the walls of the spacious manse would allow her to. ‘Cersei.’ His voice was soft and this time she didn’t pull away when he reached for her hand.

She couldn’t say why. Maybe because of the comfort the familiar touch provided, similar to the time his fingers had ghosted over her back on the ship. Maybe it was because she herself was torn. Because even though she made no move to entwine their fingers, her hand hanging loosely in his.

Yet she felt how he squeezed her fingers gently but reassuringly and he whispered softly ‘You aren’t alone Cersei. I’m at your side and I won’t turn tail and run.’ Immediately she pulled her hand away. His words having pulled her out of her messed up thoughts.

Standing quickly, the chair toppling over, she snapped ‘You did before Eddard Stark. What would stop you from doing the same thing you did all those years ago? What’s stopping you from breaking another promise you give me?’

She could see it happen, just like it had seventeen years ago. When he had left her with empty promises and a child growing within her that wasn’t her husband’s. A child she had never been able to lay eyes on. A child that never drew breath. A child whose silent wail she still heard in her nightmares.

She barely registered his reply or his cast down eyes when he said, ‘Because my heart always was with you.’ The pain that returned from where she had hidden it away hit her with full force as he continued ‘Every day I regret not fighting for you, for us. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.’

She had just gathered enough strength to force herself to walk to the door when his words finally found their way into her mind. The fury glinted in her emerald eyes and her voice was dangerously low as she replied, ‘You seem to have a very long history of bad decisions concerning me Lord Stark.’

The door almost slammed out of its hinges as her entire anger, penned up for seventeen years, broke loose. She had to put distance between them or something would happen that nobody wanted. After almost running the length of the house, she found a quiet place to sit down and reflect.

What had this been? She no longer was a blushing maid holding hands. And whatever he might have once promised. Whatever once had been between them was done the moment he had allowed her father to marry her off to Robert.

The moment he had broken every promise and had left her. Alone in the capital with the blundering oaf Robert Baratheon and carrying a child that had never been supposed to come into existence. Every hope she had, every kick she had felt had been like a knife run through her heart.


	15. Death

It was days later when she saw Aleros and his young assistant enter the mansion once again. Days in which she had not visited the secluded room once. Instead she had focused on her children and on exploring Volantis further, making contacts among the other noble ladies.

When the not-quite-maester approached she asked, ‘Is it time?’ The man nodded gravely ‘I must warn you Lady. It is a serious and most difficult surgery we are about to perform and there is no guarantee of success.’ He paused briefly ‘Or survival.’

Again she only nodded ‘I am aware Master Aleros. Just do your best.’ The man bowed briefly ‘Of course Lady. I shall let you know when it is done.’ ‘Than you.’ With that she turned around and headed towards the atrium, prepared to wait for however long it took.

‚He won’t wake up. ‘Those words repeated themselves over and over in her head. Day after day as Ned slept in his room. A large gash in his leg where the healers with Aleros as their leader had cut away the rotting flesh and sown the rest of the leg back together. Ned would retain a nasty scar and possibly would have difficulty walking once he woke up.

If he woke up. She spent most of her time in the small, stuffy room. She didn’t speak. She just sat there. The past drifting past her eyes. ‘I’m sorry’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry for the fight we had before.’ He couldn’t hear her she knew that. Cersei Lannister never apologized to anyone. Except him.

She had apologized to him before. Not that he had heard it the first time either. He had been miles from the large room in the Red Keep. The room reeking of sweat and blood. She had apologized as they had carried the bundle away.

She had lost track of time when at one point Oona came to her. ‘You need a break Cersei.’ She said softly. She felt herself pulled up from the chair she was sitting on and led out into the atrium. A glass of wine was pressed into her hand and she gulped it down.

Oona sat her down and made her eat some bread and olives. Slowly she felt her spirits return. She started listening to the conversations around her and slowly started to relax as a sudden messenger broke into the peaceful atmosphere.

He was dusty, his shirt torn on one sleeve and he seemed to have gotten into a fight. Without hesitation he approached her host and handed over two letters. Ralon ripped open the binding on one of them and started reading.

When after a while he hadn’t said anything, she returned to her lunch. Until she heard something that she recalled being a pretty nasty Valyrian curse and looked up. Ralon was shaking his head and was talking rapidly with Oona.

Her friend paled. ‘Cersei? I think this one is for you.’ She held out a letter. She immediately recognized the neat, sharp handwriting. Rising so quickly she knocked over her chair she grabbed for the letter. ‘You might want to take your space Cersei.’ Oona’s soft voice warned her.

Absentmindedly she nodded. ‘I may be excused.’ She said in Valyrian and headed back into the house. Within minutes she had reached her room and sunk onto the bed as she tore the seal apart. Her lips moving along as she read her father’s neat words.

‘Cersei, don’t ask how I know where you are. I don’t. I gave this message to Lord Varys to forward it to you. He is the only one who is able to track you down. If you’re reading this he has succeeded.’ She prepared for the worst. Her father never used this many words. Never.

‘I am writing you to tell you that your brother Jaime has died. He was captured leading a host against Robb Stark. War has gathered in the realm after you and Lord Stark were banished. Blame has been laid at every door.’

Jaime had what? She felt dizzy. This couldn’t be. No, it wasn’t true. She would have known, would have felt it. She went back to the letter, still searching for a clue that this wasn’t true. That it was some cruel joke by someone meaning her ill.

‘After he was captured, a trial was held and he was found guilty. Of what nobody seems to know. Subsequently he was executed, Robb Stark wielding the sword himself. We will march against Wolf and Stag alike. He will be avenged. Kill Stark, I know he is with you. Do your duty to your house. Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.’

Kill him? Kill the man who had been her lover. The man she had loved more than she had wanted to admit. The only person she had ever apologized to. The father of a dead child she had brought forth. And then there was another thing. Something she had never told anyone.

And Jaime. How could he have died without her knowing? She tried to recall the last time they had been together. That one furious lovemaking before he had fled the capital to Casterly Rock. And then? She hadn’t thought of her twin since.

Once on the boat. She had always put it down to her exhaustion. To the need to keep a cool head. But now she realized she couldn’t even recall his face. He had been her twin. Her other half. They had come into the world together and had always promised each other to leave it together. And now he was gone. Dead.

Beheaded by the son of another one she loved. Had loved. Still loved? The man who right now was lying in coma in a room in this very house. Due to the consequences of an injury he had gotten from her brother. And now her father was demanding his head.

She stood up slowly. Walking through the house like a sleepwalker until she had reached his room. He was unchanged. Lying on a white sheet, his face just as pale as his surroundings. The only colour was the angry red welt down the length of his leg.

Maybe it was kinder. Kinder to let him go entirely. Stepping up to the bed she looked down onto his face. A small smile was playing around his lips. A smile she knew so well. A smile she loved so much. Once.

She took hold of a pillow. Sunk onto a chair. She couldn’t do it. She would defy her father this one time. She wouldn’t…. Burying her face into the pillow as she hugged it to her chest and collapsed against the mattress.

Jaime. Ned. Jaime. Ned.

It took her a while to form another coherent thought and summon the energy to sit up. Still clutching the pillow to her chest, she tried to sort her thoughts. Jaime. Dead. By the hand of the son of the man that now lay motionless in front of her.

Again, and again her father’s words had rolled around her head. She didn’t know how long. Her anger growing by the minute. She couldn’t even place the source of this anger that threatened to overwhelm her. Was she angry at him? His son? Her brother? Her father?

Emotions boiled under the usually calm surface and more than once she had found herself standing next to him over the next days. The only one of those she blamed who was within her reach. Holding the pillow, even placing it over his face.

But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it. The one time she had brought herself to place the goose feather stuffed linen on his still face, she had broken down and cried. Whether from relief or disappointment she didn’t know

After that she managed to ban those thoughts. The thoughts of her father and brother. Of him and his son. The pressure that had almost made her kill him. She had never felt so torn. Her soul, her heart aching with the loss of her brother and the fear for the man who was still lying motionless under his covers.

She hadn’t slept much She had barely eaten. All she did was sitting by his bedside. Watching him take those swallow, painful breaths. She hoped for a miracle. Willed him to wake up. She watched his face and had to smile at his involuntary expression he made as he dreamt. ‘What are you dreaming about Ned?’ She whispered, holding his clod hand in her warm ones.

More days passed in just the same manner. Oona, Ralon and Myrcella kept checking on her, forcing her to eat. Yet she was alone with her thought. Thoughts that kept turning in circles. Always the same circles that tore her soul apart.

In the end her eyhausted body demanded a decision. A decision for her own sake. For the sake of her children. She wanted, no she needed peace. Needed to take care of herself and her children. Her decision was set.

For the first time in over two weeks she left his bedside. Only to return with the sharp, short blade she had gotten from Jaime once. How fitting, she thought as she pulled it from it’s sheath. Standing by the bedside she forced herself to look at his face. ‘I’m doing the right thing.’ She quietly told herself.

Yet her hand trembled as the slender blade glinted in the weak moonlight. She’d do it. She had to. It was right. She needed to rid them all of this. This…. She couldn’t finish the thought and the blade, pressed slightly against the skin at his throat, trembled in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Samhain to you all!


	16. Hope

‘Cersei.’

The strained whisper was loud in the strained silence of the room. But not as loud as the almost deafening clatter of a metal blade on the cold marble tiles. She saw how he strained to open his eyes before giving up on the effort.

‘Ned.’

The name that left her lips was barely more than a breath. Her hand slowly moving from her mouth to his cheek, cupping it gently, barely touching the skin as if she feared to break it with her touch. The knife on the floor was forgotten, her intentions were forgotten. Her father’s orders and her dead brother, forgotten.

She felt his jaw move beneath her fingers as he spoke her name again, barely audible, and then his eyes fluttered open. His look was disoriented, the dark grey eyes seemingly searching for something they couldn’t see. But she knew what it was they were looking for.

Trying her best to keep her voice even and free from the emotions that were battling within her she answered softly ‘I’m here Ned. Don’t worry, I’m here.’ She wouldn’t cry now, wouldn’t allow her emotions to get the better of her.

She knew that she should leave his bed now and find Aleros or at least his assistant and inform them about Ned’s changed state. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. And so she stayed with the man she had been about to kill just minutes earlier.

Slowly she felt him relax and she realized how close to a panic he had been. A hand lifted in a blind search, trembling with the weakness of weeklong disuse. After briefly hesitating she took it and he smiled. A tiny smile it was but she knew that he was glad that she was here.

‘Cersei…’ He whispered again and she was certain that he wanted to tell her something but she interrupted him ‘Hush you. Don’t speak yet.’ Right now, it didn’t matter what he had wanted to say. It didn’t matter what her father had ordered her to do. It didn’t matter that Jaime was responsible for this and in addition dead by Ned’s son’s hand.

Despite her order his lips moved again ‘My Lioness.’ He whispered. Her old nickname. The one he had given her years ago. ‘Shut up Stark.’ She ordered again but her voice held no sharpness. And for once in his life the stubborn wolf did as he was told.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, she asked quietly ‘Do you want something to drink?’ She still hadn’t let go of his hand but she saw how he had repeatedly licked his lips as if in search for something liquid. He nodded weakly in reply.

Reluctantly letting go of his hand she picked up the silver pitcher and a crystal-clear glass from the nightstand and poured a small amount of water into the glass. She recalled Aleros’s instructions to only give him little amounts after he woke and wanted to drink.

Gently lifting his head with her hand so he could drink as she placed the cup against his lips. ‘Here. Try to go slow and only tiny sips.’ She watched how he struggled with the first sips but then when he became more confident she sighed and took it away again, stating matter of factly ‘Enough for now. You get more if you can keep this down for a bit.’

She put the glass back on the nightstand before placing her hands in her lap and averting her eyes. They lapsed back into silence for another while before she said, eyes still downcast ‘I should go and get Aleros. He will want to check on you.’ But she didn’t rise from her seat.

The tiny smile reappeared on his face, maybe a tad wider than before, as he asked, ‘Can you stay a moment longer please?’ Again, his hand started to search for hers. More out of instinct than by coherent thought she took it into hers.

A moment. That was all he had asked for that night. A moment that had changed her life. For better or worse she couldn’t tell now, years later. A moment that had put her through more pleasure and more suffering than she could have imagined.

As if they had developed a life of their own her fingers started to gently brush over the rough skin on the back of his hand. Her voice was quiet when she asked, ‘How long a moment Ned?’ As soon as she had spoken she realized that she had asked him that before. They had just spilled over her lips. Those words she had said all those years ago.

From his expression she knew that he remembered as well. His whisper was barely audible when he replied, ‘Until I take my last breath and close my eyes forever.’ Something that might have been a chuckle broke free from his throat.

She knew he couldn’t see her raised eyebrow but there was teasing in her voice when she replied ‘Well, I hope you didn’t plan on doing that anytime soon.’ But the mirth was only a mask. Too deep the memory of the fear went. The fear of losing him during the past weeks. Without giving it another thought she lifted his hand briefly to her lips.

Again the sound that might have been a chuckle ‘I’ll try my best Cers. But I can’t promise.’ That wasn’t an option she wanted to think about. It had been too long. Yes, she loved Jaime. But in an entirely different way than she had loved, and possibly still loved, Ned Stark.

It had been so different a relationship from the one with Jaime. A chance meeting at the grand tourney at Harrenhal, a few secret meetings in the years to follow. A few months of passion during the rebellion.

He had been her first love. Her first real love, not a girl’s crush like it had been with Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. The first man she had fallen in love with for who he was. And whom she had despised later for the very same reason.

And just then she wanted nothing more than to be that nineteen-year-old girl again. The betrothed of the rebel Robert Baratheon. And him the closet friend and advisor of that rebel. Just the two of them, those few stolen moments in the midst of a war. She smiled ‘Do you remember Ned?’

She found her smile mirrored on his face. ‘Every moment and every touch. Every stolen hour and every word.’ He replied quietly. Chuckling she observed ‘We were so young.’ He agreed ‘We were. Young and full of love.’

And then it had all gone awry. Pain. That was what she recalled from the months and years that had followed the rebellion. Pain she did not want to think about. Still holding his hand she admitted ‘I missed you.’

His eyes, which had been closed the entire time opened and found hers as he replied ‘And I missed you. More than words can describe Cersei. Every day I longed for you to be at my side.’ She didn’t miss the soft, loving undertone of is words.

‘Yet you chose differently.’ There was no accusation in the soft words, just resignation. ‘And I rued it every day. We should just have run.’ Ned squeezed her hand softly before he continued ‘But we’re here now and I couldn’t ask for more. Feeling your hand in mine and hearing your voice.’

He was being honest she knew. Sappy but honest. Yet she couldn’t keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice as she replied ‘It is done now Ned. We made our choices and they brought us to this point.’ The recent events and those of the past still fresh on her mind.

He sighed ‘Maybe this is our chance. To start anew. Together.’ There was hope in his voice. But she merely shrugged, not wanting to think beyond this room, this moment. It would bear only more pain. ‘Maybe one day. First you need to get back on your feet. Both feet Ned.’

Her eyes shifted to his leg. Despite it now being covered she knew that it looked a lot better these days, having had the chance to look at it several times over the past weeks. She noticed that he had followed her glance as he replied ‘Once again you are right Cersei. I’m not very useful like that.’

She heard the soft teasing in his voice and had to smile a little. ‘Not exactly. Do you want to see it?’ Her expression was serious once again when their eyes met. She wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for him to see what had happened to his leg while he was out.

And as if he had read her mind he replied ‘I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know what I will do or think once I see it.’ His expression was helpless when he asked ‘Should I see it? Or rather wait?’ She sighed ‘It is your choice Ned. I can’t make it for you.’

After a moment of hesitation, he took a deep breath and nodded ‘Show me. Maybe if I can watch the healing process it will give me the strength to cope with this. See the good in the bad.’ She nodded briefly before letting go of his hand.

Moving to the end of the bed she hesitated briefly before pulling back the cover over his injured leg and leaving the good one covered because the contrast made the sight even more shocking. The leg had been slightly elevated although she didn’t quite understand Aleros’ explanations why that had to be.

She tried to see it as Ned would. The rot that had turned the skin black and the flesh brown was gone. There was no more puss oozing from cracks in the skin. The hole the spear had left had been sown close.

But the lower leg itself was only half the size it had been before. Most of the muscle tissue had to be cut away because the rot had set in too deep to be healed. But Aleros had assured her that in time the muscles would regrow.

She watched his reaction closely and had to chuckle when he exclaimed ‘It’s so small.’ She threw the coverlet back on the leg before sitting down on her chair again. ‘I should ask Aleros What I can do to train this leg again.’

She smirked ‘Thinking two steps ahead again are we Stark? When she looked at him, lying there on the bed she noticed how pale he still was. ‘You should rest Ned.’ She said quietly but with a serious voice.

With a sigh he nodded ‘You’re right again Cersei. Will you stay while I sleep?’ She hesitates briefly before agreeing ‘Only if you promise to sleep and stop being intolerably sappy.’ He chuckled as she brushed a stray strand of brown hair from his sweaty forehead. ‘Look who is talking.’ He mumbled already half asleep.

Again, she took his hand and squeezed it gently. She noticed how clammy it was. She tried to suppress the fear rising in her. Hoping that their happy moment hadn’t caused more trouble. He was weak enough as it was and if fever set in again she didn’t know what would happen. She didn’t want to know.

Slowly his breath evened out into a steady rhythm. At least those short and unsteady breaths were gone now. Still she was worried. When she was sure that he was asleep she placed his hand back at his side and rose.

She really needed to find Aleros and inform him of the changes. That was something she should have done the moment he woke up. Something made her turn around again. His face looked so much younger now that he was asleep.

The wrinkles of worry having evened out and he seemed to be smiling. As if all the pain and cares were lost in the realm of dreams. It made her smile. At least one of them was free of the worries for the time being.

Without any intention she stepped up to the bed once again. Running her fingers along the edge of his face before laying a soft kiss on his forehead. Then as if that gesture pulled her back into the real world she turned and left in search of Aleros. The knife forgotten on the ground next to the chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be out of internet for this week so update is delayed. 
> 
> but no running away. There is a major thing coming up :)


	17. Waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to wake up

As she passed through the atrium in search of the healer or at the lack of him his young apprentice girl, she saw two figures passing through the colonnade on the far side. One of them was all too familiar.

Arm in arm they slowly walked, Myrcella giggling softly at something Faolan had said. She’d put an end to this she decided as she stepped into the cool corridor. A smile firmly put into place as she approached her daughter and her host’s son.

Greeting them in Valyrian before switching into the easier Common Tongue. It was of course, pure calculation. She knew that Faolan didn’t know her native tongue as she addressed her daughter ‘I see that you have learned quite quickly how to use Valyrian Myrcella.’

The girl beamed and nodded towards her companion ‘I had a good teacher.’ Shaking her head, she sighed softly ‘Take care that he doesn’t become too good of a teacher.’ Her reply was a roll of her daughter’s eyes and an indignant ‘Mother!’ before Myrcella added almost angrily ‘I’m not you!’

Without giving her mother the chance to reply she turned to Faolan and said something in rapid Valyrian she couldn’t follow. With one last look Myrcella once again took her companion’s arm ant the two teenagers headed back into the direction they came from. Her smile fell immediately.

After that it didn’t take her long to find the old healer in a room that appeared to be something between a temporary study and a shared sleeping space for him and his apprentice. She briefly informed him that Ned had woken and Aleros got up right away.

They returned quickly, and she couldn’t suppress a little sound of worry that escaped her at the sight that welcomed them upon entering Ned’s room. Rushing to the bed she softly called out to him. Taking his hand, it felt clammy. He was shaking, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat.

He seemed to relax a little at her touch and she thought she heard him whisper her name. Before she could reply Aleros had reached the bed and matter of factly started to examine him.  A few moments passed in silence as the old man took the pulse and checked on the leg.

Then he turned to look at her ‘So he woke up earlier and was able to talk clearly before getting feverish again?’ He asked and upon her nodding continued ‘Did he drink anything?’ Again, she nodded and quietly answered ‘About half a glass of water.’

The old man smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s a normal reaction of the body emerging from coma to normal work. It should be gone after tonight. On the other hand, he seems to be recovering better than I had hoped. Maybe it was the best he fell into coma. The stillness helped the leg heal and lower the fever.’

Once again, the man bowed and was gone before she had time to reply and ask other questions. After the healer had left she once again took up her position on the chair next to his bed. She was about to take his hand again when the glint of metal next to her chair caught her eye.

‘Lioness.’

At the sound of his voice she jumped. Having bend down to pick up the knife just the moment before. Promptly she felt a sharp pain bite into her thumb and cursed loudly as the razor-sharp edge cut into the soft flesh.

Blood started to pour almost immediately, and she jumped from her chair. Quickly searching for something to still the bleeding, she spied the left-over bandages on the desk beneath the window. They’d have to do she decided and headed over to it sucking her thumb and scrunching her nose as the taste of iron spread through her mouth.

She was wrapping the bandages around her finger when she heard him say her name again. Stronger this time, when she looked up she saw that his eyes where open and searching. Turning towards him she smiled a little.

‘It’s all good Ned.’ She was fixing the end of the bandage around her hand as she sat down next to him once more. ‘Are you sure?’ He asked with a slightly lifted brow and a glance at her hand. ‘I hope I haven’t caused this wound of yours?’

His question made her chuckle a bit. ‘In a way. You startled me when I was picking up my knife and I cut myself. It’ll be fine tomorrow.’ After a slight hesitation he used her left hand to take his once again. It was decidedly clammy, and she couldn’t help a little sigh escape.

She didn’t miss the brief expression of worry ghosting over Ned’s face as he quietly suggested ‘You should have it looked at by Aleros or that assistant of his. It might become inflamed like this.’ Then his expression once again softened, and she felt him gently squeeze her hand.

After a short moment he asked, ‘Did I miss anything important while I was asleep?’ She noticed that his voice was still weak with fever and hoarse from days without using it. But a small glimmer of his earlier stubbornness had returned to his eyes and that gave her at least a little bit of hope.

‘Nothing much.’ She replied ‘Aleros was here a few minutes ago. He said that you’ll be fine by tomorrow. The fever now only seems to be a reaction of your body returning to normal.’ He nodded, and she continued ‘He also said that you being asleep helped the healing immensely.’

He nodded once again ‘Sounds reasonable enough.’ A slight cough cut him short and she quickly let go of his hand to reach for the goblet that still stood on the bedside table. Using her uninjured hand to slightly raise his head she lifted the goblet to his lips with the other. ‘Here.’

After a few sips he turned his head away. ‘Enough.’ He said weakly before adding ‘That man is quite interesting. His methods seem odd but the work nonetheless.’ His hand ghosting over the bandage ‘You really should let him check on this.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. And certainly not my first or worst cut.’ She kept her eyes on his. Conveying the underlying message before putting the cup back on the nightstand and gently reminding him ‘Now stop worrying about me and start worrying more about yourself, stubborn fool that you are.’

‘Fool I may be but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.’ His voice was gentle as he replied with a smile and lifted his hand to softly start running his fingers over her arm. Immediately she reached for his hand to stop it as soon as his fingers started brushing against the fabric of her dress.

Something made her recoil. Some part within her that told her to keep her distance, that it wasn’t time for her to accept this caress yet. That it wasn’t the time to become close again. Trying to distract from her hesitation she scolded ‘As long as you worry about yourself more.’

And was promptly given another of those smiles that told her he’d do anything but what he was told. ‘It’s nice to have you here Cersei.’ He mumbled with his eyes half closed. Of course. Rolling her eyes, she returned ‘Seeing as it was you who brought us here. Give yourself a pat on the shoulder Stark.’ But her voice held no real accusation just a hint of annoyance as she held his still clammy hand.

He sighed and shook his head ‘Please Cersei. Not now.’ Raising her eyebrow, she returned ‘You are going to hear this until the end of your days Stark.’ But she couldn’t keep the straight face up for much longer. Just being too relieved the he had survived the worst, to get into another fight with him as soon as he woke.

Her small smile was mirrored by him as he replied, ‘I wouldn’t have expected it to be any other way.’ After a few rather laboured breaths he asked quietly ‘Will you be spending more time here? Or have you planned anything else?’

Shrugging she replied ‘Not really. Seeing as there isn’t much to do here except sit around or visit one of the markets from time to time. Myrcella is still flirting with Faolan and apparently Oona’s youngest has a cat who just littered so she and Tommen are rarely to be found anywhere else but with the kitten.’

She trailed off. Her thoughts on her oldest. Joffrey had changed a lot and then not at all since they had arrived in the spacious mansion. As if Ned had read her thoughts he gently asked ‘What about Joffrey? Is he alright? You haven’t spoken about him.’ She heard a slight worry in his tone and sighed.

‘He’s been alright I guess. He has joined Faolan’s fencing lessons.’ She laughed softly ‘It drives him crazy that he can’t land a single hit. I dare say it’s made him quite ambitious to beat Faolan.’ Regaining her seriousness, she adds after a moment ‘And it’s tiring him out so much that he doesn’t have the energy left to get into his moods.’

She saw Ned sigh ‘Maybe it’ll help him to see that he has to change. To start anew.’ She shook her head ‘Sadly he’s still going on about being the crown prince hand having to be treated as such. But I’m not sure if he’s serious about it anymore or if it is more out of habit.’

Shrugging she add ‘But you shouldn’t worry about my children now.’ Her thoughts once again returning to the letter her father sent. It wasn’t her children he needed to worry about but his son and her father.

Ned didn’t seem to notice her sudden change in demeanour. Instead he smiled and offered ‘You can tell Myrcella and Tommen that they can come and visit if they want to. I’d offer it to Joffrey too, but I fear he wouldn’t want to.’

Trying to overplay her uncomfortable thoughts she chuckled slightly ‘I can send them to you. Although you’ll probably be drowning in chatter about Faolan and kitten.’ But she couldn’t keep up the happy mood and broke off. She had to tell him about the letter, didn’t she?

She watched the laugh die on Ned’s lips as well. He raised his eyebrow and gently squeezed her hand like he was urging her on to tell him. She sighed, keeping her emerald eyes fixed on his dark grey ones as she hesitantly began ‘While you were sleeping a letter arrived.’

‘From Westeros. Or more precisely from my father at Casterly Rock.’ Once again, she broke off. Why was it so hard to just tell him what had transpired in Westeros? And what her father had ordered her to do? She let go of his hand and stood up, pacing the length of the room.

She barely heard the waterfall of questions that her words caused Ned to ask. Waving his concerns about their safety off she explained curtly ‘It came via Varys and Aleros.’ Stopping her pacing she turned towards him.

And just like that every way she had thought of how she’d tell him about it all was gone. About Robb and Jaime and what her father told her to do. So, she simply stated ‘Your son Robb killed Jaime. Executed him to be more precise.’ She saw how his eyes widened at that.

‘My son did what?’ Shaking his head ‘How? Why?’ She sighed a little before elaborating ‘Apparently after we were both banished your son blamed me for it and my father blamed you. Armies were set in motion and there was a battle. Jaime was captured by your son and subsequently executed.’

Her tone remained neutral, betraying nothing of her conflicted feelings. Once again, he sighed, even reaching out for her, reaching short and his hand falling back onto the sheet. ‘I’m sorry Cersei. So sorry.’

She kept her eyes on his and didn’t reply. When their eyes met she decided she’d tell him all. She had to, didn’t she? She owed it to him. ‘Father told me to kill you.’ Her voice remained quiet, matter of factly as she told him. Unsure of what his reaction would be.

She saw him swallow before quietly stating ‘I understand his wish for revenge. After all Jaime was his golden son.’ She didn’t reply. Just kept their eyes locked as her mind went blank. Without a will of her own she started to walk towards him.

Pulling out the knife she had just sheathed at her hip again. Slowly she approached the bed, taking one step at a time as her face remained expressionless. The sun was glinting off the razor-sharp edge of the knife.

She stood next to the bed by now. Lifting the blade and ramming it down. Shivering it stood upright, lodged firmly in the wood of the nightstand. Then she sat down again, emerging from her trance like state.

‘I was going to do it. I had the blade at your throat. But I found I couldn’t do it. We have a history Ned. A history that is something I never thought of having. Something I wish I never had. And yet it prevents me from following my father’s orders.’

She fell silent. The entire room seemed to hold its breath. Then Ned replied very quietly ‘Whatever my son has done Cersei. Our history is all I ever wanted and ever will want.’ Of course, that’s what you’d think Ned, she thought with some bitterness.

But then the floodgates just burst open. His, soft voice, his words, the stress of those last weeks, her conflicting emotions, all those feeling that returned with a crash after she had believed them to have died years ago. It all broke free and she just cried.

‘Cersei.’ She heard him whisper but it just made her sob harder. She shook her head ‘I shouldn’t’ A hiccup broke free and interrupted her ‘I shouldn’t have bothered you with all this.’ Another hiccup. She felt his arms reaching towards her more than she saw them through her tears.

Despite her words she sank. Sank into those arms that she knew would hold her safe no matter what happened. Without thinking about it she lay down next to him and hid her face in his tunic. Her sobs muffled by the fabric. Occasionally a hiccup broke free. And there were his arms around her, just holding her safely.

They never noticed how Myrcella quietly closed the door on them. She also didn’t know how long she had sobbed into Ned’s tunic. She just felt his gentle hands around her, heard his comforting words echo through his chest and when she closed her eyes she was thrown back sixteen years. Smiling she drifted to sleep that night, still safe within those arms she had not allowed herself to miss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right I'm back and I mean to stay. Having way too much fun with this story to abandon it.


	18. Of kittens and forbidden love

When she woke the next day, she was confused. She definitely was being held by the strong arms of a man. Jaime, she thought. It was all a dream her sleep addled mind told her. A horrible nightmare and yet the sweetest dream of her life.

But as she slowly opened her eyes, she found herself confronted by a sight that maybe was even more familiar than Jaime’s well-trained torso. A sight she hadn’t woken up to in over sixteen years and never thought to ever do again.

‘Ned’ She whispered softly and with a smile as she closed her eyes once again and snuggled a little more into his side. Immediately she felt his arms tight a little more around her. Slowly she dozed off again, simply relaxing into the familiarity of the situation.

About half an hour later however she forced herself to open her eyes again and detangle herself from his embrace. Slowly she sat up and groaned. Everything ached from falling asleep in that position and her day clothes. ‘To hell with you Ned Stark.’ She grumbled even though she still was smiling.

‘Cers?’ She turned around at his voice and chuckled, seeing that he wasn’t even awake yet. As she stood up she cast a glance at the window. Judging by the height of the sun it was almost midday. Quietly she opened the door and slipped out.

Upon returning to her room she went to refresh her self and change into a different gown. She still was in a mess. Her thoughts still were a mess. A quiet knock on the door had her raise her head from the dress she had just been about to put on. One of those she had recently bought with Oona in one of the markets.

‘Come in.’ She called as she pulled the dress over her head without looking at the door as it quietly opened and closed. ‘Mother? Are you alright?’ At the sound of her daughter’s voice she turned around ‘Of course Princess. Why are you asking?’

She knew why her daughter was asking. The girl was too bright for her own good sometimes. And true to her prediction Myrcella, as soon as she had sat down on the bed, started by stating ‘I saw you and Lord Stark yesterday. You seem to know each other very well. A lot more than either of you ever let on.’

She sighed and sat down next to her daughter, her dress still only half closed. After a few moments she replied quietly and with a serious face ‘You’re right.’ She paused briefly before admitting ‘We were a pair once.’

She laughed bitterly at the memory ‘We were so in love and thought we’d marry someday. But then the war came, and we took different paths and made choices we rue now I guess.’ She didn’t know exactly what or how much she rued the choices she had made. Falling silent she wondered why she told Myrcella all this.

 But the thirteen-year-old girl only smiled ‘That’s a sad story mother. I hope I will make the right choices one day.’ She stood up and pulled her mother to her feet ‘Here let me help you.’ With deft hands Myrcella arranged the complicated pattern of fabric and closed the clips and bows.

She sighed as she remembered the heavy burden she had been left with after Ned returned to the North with his Tully bride. ‘Just be careful Myrcella.’ She felt her daughter’s arms around her as Myrcella briefly hugged her before letting go and stepping in front of her.

Their emerald eyes et as Myrcella promised ‘I will be mother. Don’t worry.’ Of course, she worried more than ever. But she didn’t let that show as a smile passed between mother and daughter. Then Myrcella stated ‘There. Now you look like a true Volantene noblewoman.’ They laughed at that.

‘Let’s find something to eat. I’m pretty sure Oona already has men searching for you.’ She followed Myrcella to the atrium where their hosts and their children were already seated and ready to have lunch.

She smiled a little as she watched Myrcella sit down next to Faolan and whispered something in his ear. How young she is she thought to herself. Too young for all of this really. Too young to repeat her mother’s mistakes. And yet the girl seemed a woman. So grown up and responsible as she acted.

Sighing she sat down next to Ralon and took some of the bread and olives she was offered. Occasionally taking a sip from the cool wine in front of her, grateful that it was a custom of Volantis to take meals in silence.

After lunch she once again started walking towards Ned’s room but was soon joined by her two younger children. Myrcella was grinning ‘Faolan is going to trash Joffrey again.’ She stated with childlike enthusiasm.

And Tommen who was cradling a little dark kitten with a white nose piped up ‘And I wanted to show Lord Stark my Arty. Now that he’s awake. Is that alright mother?’ He asked with his high child’s voice, apparently unsure if his enthusiasm would be met with appreciation.

She smiled softly ‘Of course it is Tommen. Lord Stark will be happy to meet your little companion.’ Tommen beamed. Together they entered Ned’s room and she announced, ‘I brought you a few visitors Stark.’

Staying back as Tommen ran over to the bed while Myrcella stayed by her mother’s side. Ned smiled at them ‘What a nice surprise. Hello there Tommen, Myrcella. How are you?’ And looking at the kitten he added ‘And who is your little friend Tommen?’

She smiled as the little kitten jumped from Tommen’s arms onto Ned’s chest. One of the servants had propped him up with pillows so now he was resting in a comfortable reclining position. ‘His name is Arty. Rowen gave him to me as a present.’ The eight-year-old told Ned with a very serious face.

She saw Ned chuckle a little at the introduction and smiled when he gently petted the dappled fur ‘Arty is a very good name. And it was very nice of Rowen to give him to you, but you will need to take good care of him.’ Tommen nodded with the same serious expression on his face.

Her son was fidgeting a little and she wondered what was making him hesitate when the little boy seemed to gather up all his courage and ask Ned with an unsure smile ‘Does it hurt much? The leg I mean.’

Ned shook his head and handed the kitten back to its owner ‘It did but now it is much better. I’m not in as much pain as I was on the boat. And I’m sure it will go away with time.’ Tommen smiled and declared ‘I am happy that you don’t have pain anymore. Pain is bad.’

As if it had waited for its cue Arty hit Tommen’s hand with its tiny claws. The boy shrieked in surprise before starting to scold the kitten. She stepped forward and put a hand on her son’s shoulder ‘Maybe you should bring Arty back to his mother. He surely is hungry.’ Tommen beamed and started towards the door ‘Of course mother.’ He was still smiling as he left.

Ned’s gaze shifted to Myrcella ‘And how are you Myrcella? Have I done something to make you stand all the way over there?’ Myrcella smiled and sat down on the edge of Ned’s bed. ‘No of course not Lord Stark. I was merely watching you and Tommen. I am glad you’re feeling better.’

She had followed her daughter and sat on the chair she had left standing by his bedside. She saw Ned raising a brow ‘You can call me Ned Myrcella. I’m not Lord Stark here or anywhere else for that matter. But how are you doing?’

A little blush crept onto the girl’s cheeks ‘Faolan has been teaching me Valyrian. He’s been very kind:’ She rolled her eyes and teased her daughter ‘What Myrcella is saying, is that she likes the young man.’

‘Mother!’ The indignant reaction came promptly. Along with a deep blush. Ned laughed softly ‘So the little princess has fallen in love. I’m sure your mother watches the two of you like a hawk now.’ Myrcella’s blush deepened.

‘I’m thirteen. I think that’s old enough to make my own decisions. And I believe you two aren’t exactly in the position to tell me off for it.’ Her daughter grinned at them. Now it was her turn to feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

‘Did you tell her, or did she figure it out on her own?’ Ned asked with a raised eyebrow and amusement in his eyes. ‘She figured it out on her own. I merely filled in a few missing pieces.’ She had to admit, turning away when she felt herself blushing even deeper than Myrcella had.

Myrcella rolled her eyes and stood up ‘I’ll leave you to it. Mother, Ned.’ The girl stood up and headed to the door, closing it softly behind her as Ned called out ‘He better treat you well if he knows what’s good for him.’ She could hear Myrcella chuckling as the door closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested: Faolan is a celtic name and means wolf/wolfling. Quite fitting don't you think?


	19. On intsinct

After the door had closed Ned weakly patted the spot next to him which her daughter had recently vacated ‘Come sit down Cersei. I promise I won’t bite your head off.’ Now it was her turn to roll her eyes at his words. But she sat down on the indicated spot.

Shaking hr head in mild amusement she stated ‘That girl. She really has grown up.’ Only a brief hesitation could be heard in her voice as she spoke, the words she had originally meant to say replaced. It wasn’t the time for them yet and maybe that time would never come.

‘How are you really doing Ned?’ She asked softly, knowing that the stubborn lord wasn’t beyond putting on the brave face in front of her children. ‘I’m really better Cersei. Definitely less feverish which is a great improvement.’

After a brief moment which she felt him take her hand once again and gently caress it, he spoke again ‘You can be proud of your daughter Cersei. She really is a brave, brilliant young lady.’ She smiled briefly.

‘I am Ned. She’s a good-hearted soul. I’m just afraid that she and Faolan will make the same mistakes that we made. That they will suffer just like we did. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.’ Wouldn’t be able to see her daughter abandoned as she was with the same heartbreak and suffering.

Ned nodded slowly as she watched him pull himself into an upright sitting position. ‘she won’t make the same mistakes Cersei, she has you to guide her.’ He smiled faintly ‘Although I have to admit that I never thought our relationship a mistake.’ His voice became heavy with regret as he continued ‘The only mistake I made was ending it. Marrying Catelyn instead of you.’

Once again she shook her head ‘I’m not so sure about Myrcella. Or about us.’ Sighing she added ‘You shouldn’t worry about any of all this now. Lay back down and recover, you stupid man. If you continue moving around like that you’ll undo all of Aleros good work.’

He chuckled slightly and wrapped his arm around her. The unexpected touch sending a slight shiver down her back. ‘I shall once this beautiful woman has left me. Which I hope won’t be any time soon. You dress is just as beautiful Cersei.’

‘You can be quite the sweet talker if you want to lord Stark. Who would have expected that from a half-frozen Northman?’ But she was grinning a little at his mention of her dress. It was a Volantene style dress, but it was the colours she had liked.

The silk was the dark grey that usually was associated with house Stark, the trimming done in white lace. A very simple gown in truth but she knew why she had chosen it. Ned shook his head ‘Just stating the truth lady Lannister.’

‘Still sweet talking are we Stark?’ But her words were nothing more than a whisper as she leaned closer. Her emerald eyes fixed on her grey ones. Closer and closer she leaned. Until her lips found his. Only briefly, very briefly. But it was enough to have the memories flooding back to her.

She sat back up ‘And now lord Stark keep your hands to yourself and rest.’ Slowly she stood up, his fingers slipping from hers. Ned softly said, ‘I didn’t expect that.’ But there was a faint smile playing around his lips.

Her expression softened a bit, it had been a spur of the moment thing she did not want to repeat any time soon. ‘Sleep well, you old sweet talker.’ She teased as she crossed the room towards the door. She likely would have remained with him for a while yet but Oona, Myrcella and Oona’s oldest daughter had talked her into a trip to one of the markets.

‘Take care Cers.’ She heard his strained voice after her. Already having her hand on the door handle she turned around again ‘Didn’t I tell you to stop worrying Eddard Stark?’ She scolded ‘You did.’ Chuckling she shook her head ‘Sleep well Ned.’ Then she left the room, closing the door quietly, and went off in search of her friend and daughter.

* * *

 

The moment they stepped out of the palanquin and onto the bustling market square she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Letting the sounds and smells wash over her. It actually felt good to be out of the house and among other people. Oona and Myrcella even made her promise that she wouldn’t worry too much about Ned for the next few hours.

As they moved through the crowds, mainly noblewomen like themselves, she felt like the emotional strain of the past days slowly disappeared. Wandering through the stalls the four women marvelled at the rich display of fabrics and colours as well as the craftsmanship of the tailors and jewellers.

She teased Myrcella over her choice of a wonderful Volantene dress which made Oona raise her eyebrow and Dayna erupt in chuckles as it was one that they all knew Faolan would approve of. The teasing was subsequently turned on her subsequently as she opted for a few lengths of grey silk.

Flicking her fingers against her daughter’s forehead she was about to mock scold her when she felt herself hit hard in the back by something. Myrcella was shrieking in pain and Dayna in panic. Then she fell and hit her head hard. Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time. but working on the next one.


	20. Pain and Blood

She felt herself being shaken by the shoulders quite roughly and forced herself to open her eyes. Her head pounded like a herd of those tiny white elephants that where everywhere in this city ran rampage.

With some difficulty she got herself into an upright position and finally pulled herself to stand with the help of her friend. She was about to ask what had happened when she saw Myrcella. She was lying a few feet away on the street.

Her golden hair matted with dirt and blood. Within the space of a few breaths she was at her daughter’s side. She was still breathing but unconscious. Two of Oona’s household guards who had accompanied them approached.

Carefully they lifted the unconscious girl into the waiting palanquin and after that helped her inside as well. Oona and her daughter followed, and the palanquin started to move. Soon enough the pounding headache and the soothing motion of the transport lulled her to a deep slumber.

The next time she woke she found herself in her bed in Oona’s house. Her head was still pounding like a head of wild elephants and someone had used her deep sleep to wrap her right wrist in a bandage. That as well was hurting a lot.

As her eyes got used to the semi darkness around her she realized that some good soul had closed the shutters so that the sun wouldn’t be painful to her. Her eyes shifted, and her gaze caught sight of a well-known figure sitting on the edge of her bed.

‘What happened?’ She whispered hoarsely and even that threatened to spilt her skull with how loud it seemed to her. Oona sighed and turned to face her friend properly ‘Apparently something or someone spooked those elephants and they panicked. Tearing lose they overran the market, creating a mass panic.’

Oona paused briefly before continuing her grisly report ‘The numbers aren’t yet confirmed but there haven been many, many injured and at least two of the traders were killed in the chaos.’ She groaned as much out of pain as she did as a reaction to the news.

Remembering her daughter lying in the dirt amidst the running people she asked weakly ‘Myrcella? What happened to her?’ Oona smiled reassuringly ‘She has a nasty gash in her head and her ankle was broken as someone stepped on it. But she’ll live.’

With the intention of directly heading to her daughter’s room she sat up. Only to be gently pushed back into the pillows by her friend ‘You stay put Cersei. Master Aleros has put you on bedrest for at least a few days. And be careful with that wrist. You sprained it pretty badly trying to catch your fall. You also have a massive bruise over your eye where you hit the stall.’

With another groan she sank back into the pillows, the pulsing pain in her head getting worse by the minute. Her dreams were chaotic and dark. Each worse than the one before and yet all scrambled together.

Myrcella being trampled under the feet of thousands of panicking market customers. Jaime, drained in blood that might have been his or someone else’s. Fighting an equally stained Ned Stark. Hacking of limps and killing each other in every grisly way imaginable.

And again, and again an old nightmare resurfaced. The room was familiar, large and airy. A bedroom within the royal apartments of the Red Keep. Pain was wracking her body, cramps tearing her apart as midwives scurried all around her.

The stench of blood. Blood drenching the towels the midwives carried out of the room and the sheets she lay on. Screams. Her own. Jaime holding her briefly against him before he fainted and had to be carried out.

And then. Nothing. No pain. No movement in the room. Not a sound could be heard. No protesting screams of a new-born. Not even the faintest of whimpers. Just deafening silence. And then the hushed whispers of the midwives.

She had turned her head then, searching for the child she had just birthed. The child of Ned Stark, which she had carried for almost nine months. But all she had seen was a bloody bundle in the arms of a maid who had thrown her a frightened glance and then quickly left the room.

That was the first and last time she had laid eyes on the child she had wanted. The child of her love. The child that might have brought her and Ned together again. She didn’t even have the strength to cry then. But the tears were running over her cheeks as she dreamt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again a short chapter.   
> Do you know the feeling when bulletpoints start to grow tiny bullet points?
> 
> Anyway I'm working towards something big here so stay tuned


	21. Sons

When she woke from her nightmare ordeal, she saw a slender woman move almost soundlessly through her room. A servant. No, a slave she realized as she saw the diamond tattooed on the olive coloured face.

As the woman placed down her tray on which she saw a light meal of cheese and olives as well as some wine, she slowly sat up. Not wanting to startle her as she quietly asked in very rudimentary Valyrian ‘What time is it?’

Despite slightly startling the young woman turned around. She saw with surprise that the woman was heavily pregnant. ‘It is the early evening hours my Lady.’ The woman replied in an equally broken Valyrian. So, she wasn’t from the area either. She smiled kindly at her as she curtsied and left.

Only then did she rise to slowly approach the table and sink into the chair. Carefully she took a few sips of the wine and started to pick apart one of the bread pieces. Occasionally eating a piece of it before stopping altogether.

She started to feel slightly queasy after only a few bites. Supposing it was a result of the hit to the head and the concussion that stemmed from it. She had intended to visit Myrcella and look after her daughter as soon as possible but at the moment she barely made it back to her bed. Curling up beneath the covers she fell asleep once again.

Drifting back into her dreams. Her nightmares. Again, the smell of blood stung her nose and the pain clouded her vision. Again and again the pictures flashed in front of her closed eyes. The bloody bundle. Jaime. Ned. Winterfell. King’s Landing. Her father.

Winterfell again. Ned and Jaime. Jaime and her as children at her mother’s deathbed, as teenagers. A night of passion at Riverrun. Pain. It was all blurry and yet mixed together. Over it all lay the blood and the pain that connected all those images.

She woke up the next day to a child quietly sobbing next to her. Only slowly her eyes opened to the sight of her youngest curled into her side. There were silent tears streaming down Tommen’s face for a reason she couldn’t figure out. Arty was nestled into the gap between their bodies.

Smiling faintly she asked quietly ‘Sweetie? What’s happened? Why are you crying?’ Almost immediately the sobbing stopped and her little boy looked up at her. Well not that little anymore she realized. Tommen, her little baby, would soon be turning nine.

The high childish voice was quiet as he replied ‘I was worried you wouldn’t wake up again. Like uncle Ned.’ She had to swallow a little and blink away a tear that came unbidden to her eye at the words. ‘No Sweetie. I wasn’t going to sleep like that. I just have a very painful headache.’

Tommen’s plump lips formed a big OH. Sitting up and smiling over his whole face he exclaimed ‘Then you can get up and I can show you Arty’s sibling and then we can play with them?’ Immediately her face distorted into a pained grimace at the shrill tone ‘Shshshsh Tommen not so loud please.’ The boy looked at his hand, his expression contrite. ‘I’m sorry mother.’

She sighed ‘It’s alright sweetie. Come lie down and we can cuddle a bit?’ Promptly the little boy snuggled back into her side, the kitten hissing in annoyance at being squished between them. Tommen sat up again and carefully set it onto the floor.

Only for it to jump on the bed once more as Tommen resumed his earlier position and curl up in the space it had just been complaining about. Tommen giggled at his companion’s antics and she had to smile a little. The dark kitten with the white nose was quite adorable.

After that mother and son drifted into some kind of a doze as she was running her fingers comfortingly through Tommen’s hair. She knew she didn’t pay her youngest as much attention as she should but sometimes he made it hard for her. Just like she thought of him still as a toddler rather than an eight-year-old child. Because that was how he behaved.

At one point, she didn’t know how much time had passed, the door to her room was pulled open. Not gently as her maid or the slave girls were wont to do but roughly and without care for who might behind it.

Even before she could see the intruder she knew that it could only be her oldest. Joffrey never cared about anything safe himself and certainly not for his mother being indisposed. And of course she was right about her assumption.

The tall fourteen-year-old greeted her without any sympathy. ‘Mother. I heard you were injured?’ He didn’t even ask how she was. Just stating the fact as if it annoyed him. Not that she had expected anything else from him.

Sensing that Joffrey wasn’t here to pay a courtesy visit she gently nudged Tommen who had whimpered and hidden his face in her dress when his brother had entered. ‘Sweetie why don’t you take Arty back to his mother and siblings?’

The boy did as he was told and left with the kitten tucked safely under his tunic. But as he passed Joffrey he threw him a look that was equally fear and burning hate. It broke her heart. She had never seen this look on Tommen and wondered how such a sweet boy was able to conjure up so much unrelenting hate.

When the door had closed behind Tommen she pushed herself up until she was reclining against the cushions behind her. ‘How are you Joffrey?’ She asked him gently. She knew that Joffrey didn’t care how she felt or how much her head hurt.

‘I’m going to beat him on the morrow Mother. Faolan. He has humiliated me. More than once.’ Joffrey already was a little out of breath from his tirade and her head had begun to pound but she didn’t try to stop his rant. She knew it would be useless and only turn his wrath against her.

Mindless of his mother’s discomfort Joffrey continued ‘He has to learn that there are consequences for treating the crown prince in this way.’ His voice getting shriller with every word. She felt as if her head was about to split.

‘Joff please. Keep your voice down. I am sure Faolan didn’t mean any insult.’ But Joffrey payed her no heed. ‘I’ll carve him up like a piece of pie.’ He growled instead. From what she knew from Myrcella, her son was making empty threats.

But his voice was making her see stars by now. ‘Joffrey. I need to rest.’ Her voice was firm but she noticed how the pain leaked into it. But all Joffrey seemed to notice was that she wasn’t listening to him anymore. He did what he always did in such cases. He turned and stomped off without another word. After he was gone it became peacefully quiet again. Slowly she drifted back to sleep.

She was dozing peacefully when the dreams returned. She wouldn’t be able to recall any of it later. She never could. No matter how realistic or intense. No matter how much the pain tore at her. Only this time the pain wouldn’t subside.

It pierced through her dreams and into her conscious thoughts and feelings. She felt feverish as she finally tore herself out of her dreams. The pain making her clutch her stomach as she sat up. There was blood everywhere.

Staring at it aghast it took her a moment to piece together the symptoms and figure out what had happened. She had thought she was past her childbearing years. Since the birth of Tommen almost nine years ago she hadn’t bled. But she knew those cramps that made her lower abdomen a tight ball of pain. Sighing she leaned back against the pillows.


	22. True colours

After a slight hesitation she leaned to the side and reached out for the sash of fabric that hug down from the wall next to her bed. It had been one of the first things Oona had explained to her after their arrival.

It was connected to a network of wires and strings that ran within the marble walls and ended in the slaves’ lunch hall below the mansion. There they connected to bells which hung on a board and if she should ever require anything she should just pull the sash.

Up to this moment she had steadfastly refused to use this way of summoning a servant. She still refused to call them slaves. Maybe it was naïve of her, but she resented the idea of owning another person. Pay, no matter how bad, for work done? Yes, she didn’t mind that. Ordering someone about and holding their very lives in your hand? No.

But now she eyed the sash and finally caved in as the pain became too uncomfortable. Also, she figured that her bedding needed to be changed. It didn’t take the girl five minutes by her reckon to appear through the secret door in the wall. She supposed it directly led to the servants’ quarters.

As soon as the young woman saw the blood on the lady’s dress she started to scream. She quickly got up to show her that nothing bad happened and at the same time tried to calmly give her orders in very broken Valyrian.

After a few minutes the maid had calmed down enough to realise what had happened and disappeared, stating something in her rapid bastard Valyrian which she didn’t understand a word of. She returned quickly with another servant of the house, carrying fresh sheets, and Aleros following behind them.

The old man saw the blood and an undefinable smile faintly played around his lips. ‘And here our friend from across the sea thought you to be past your childbearing days.’ She didn’t reply except to raise her head and look down at him indignantly. She didn’t want his unnecessary comments, she wanted something against the pain.

She lost her countenance when another cramp heralded itself and she snapped at the old man ‘Do you have something, or did you come here to gloat?’ Wordlessly but with that unreadable smile still on his lips the healer handed her a small vial.

She snatched it out of hand. Her head was still sore, and she was growing more irritated by the moment ‘Still here? Do you want to stare and gape while I put on a new dress?’ She huffed and quickly drained the contents of the vial.

Meanwhile the two young women had changed the bedding and laid out a new dress on the chair. Then one of them curtsied and left. Aleros, still not replying, bowed and followed her. The other young woman remained standing with her head bowed next to the chair.

As soon as the door had closed she waved her hand towards her dirty gown. Partially because her body and the pain made her irritated, partially because she still lacked the vocabulary to give proper instructions.

The maid understood her wishes regardless of the language barrier and quickly undressed her before helping her into the new gown, a light blue one in the Volantene fashion. Then the young woman had left her, and she had sat down for a moment until the medicine Aleros had given her took effect.

When she rose again even her headache had subsided as had the pulsing in her wrist and she felt good enough to leave her rooms and take a little stroll. She had been penned up for almost a week now and was beginning to feel restless.

She was walking towards her daughter’s room when the girl appeared at the end of the corridor. She smiled and briefly hugged Myrcella ‘I see youth beats age this time around. How are you feeling?’ The girl moved nimbly on her crutches and seemed cheerful despite the cast on her leg.

‘I’m doing well. And I see you are too. Good.’ She raised an eyebrow at Myrcella’s tone. ‘You are plotting something I suppose?’ The girl chuckled and shook her head ‘I was on my way to see if you were able to get up. He’s been asking for you and could barely be persuaded to remain abed.’

She rolled her eyes at the complicit tone Myrcella employed ‘So my daughter is becoming my wingman.’ She stated with a faint smile which Myrcella didn’t return. Instead her face became serious ‘Well. If my mother becomes mine rather than boycotting her daughter’s wishes.’

With that the girl slowly moved off towards Ned’s room and she followed at the same pace, her daughter’s request or rather order milling within her now slightly pounding head. She still wasn’t too happy about the budding romance between Myrcella and the two-year older Faolan but how could she intervene?

 She’d be a hypocrite along with the fact that within these walls it was almost impossible to separate two people unless one locked them up and that wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do. But at the same time, she didn’t want to accept the fact that Myrcella was repeating her mistakes. Because being with Ned had been one. Possibly the biggest she had ever made no matter how much joy it had brought her.

She stopped dead as she reached the open door to Ned’s room. The unfamiliar sight that greeted her both being unexpected and unwelcomed. ‘So, you are wearing Lannister colours now Stark?’ She asked with a sharp voice.

The man, dressed in a short tunic in a dark red with golden trims, turned around on the bed and she could see his face lighting up. ‘How are you? I was beginning to fear that something serious had happened and Aleros was lying.’

She didn’t reply, just remained standing in the door. He sighed ‘You are wearing Stark colours from time to time as well and I never protested.’ She crossed her arms in front of her chest not quite able to say why she wasn’t too happy about seeing him in her house colours.

Because he was right she had worn Stark colours previously as well as the dark green velvet dress he had gifted her before. ‘I just like the design of the dress.’ Ned’s eyebrow shot up. ‘And I like the colours of this tunic because they remind me of you.’

She gritted her teeth and her mouth became a thin line ‘And does it remind you about what your son did to my brother? That he executed him without hesitation or the king’s order?’ Spitting the accusations at the man even though she knew they were without reason.

She could see him sigh again. Deeply this time as he quietly replied with regret in his voice ’I’m sorry for what Robb did. I said so before and will again if it helps you.’ Slowly the broken man began to pull the shirt over his head. ‘Myrcella chose it for me earlier.’ He almost whispered.

She bit her lip and swallowed heavily. Both at his words and at the sight of his body. Despite him being not the young man, he had been sixteen years ago but still the muscles played under the rough skin with every movement. In the end she forced herself to look away.

She stated to the wall ‘But then she doesn’t know how Jaime died. Only that he fell in battle.’ She had wanted to say more but was interrupted by a voice from the door. Apparently Myrcella hadn’t left them as she had supposed but remained outside the door.

‘I know how he died mother. I was told.’ After an icy stare from her emerald eyes Myrcella turned to Ned ordering ‘And you put that shirt back on. No use to any of us if you catch a cold on top of that injury.’

The girl picked the tunic up and tossed it at Ned before turning back on her mother ‘And you stop blaming him for our situation. You’re no better than Robb or grandfather.’ With that she turned around and closed the door behind her. Loudly.

The sound made her jump before she turned on the now once again in red and gold dressed Ned. ‘And there she is wrong. It was you who brought us here Stark. It is your fault that we are here and not in King’s Landing.’

Ned shook his head ‘You have thrown that at me countless times already Cersei. It happened, and it can’t be changed now.’ He shook his head ‘You will never let this go. I know you. Whenever we will fight it will come up again.’

‘Yes, of course it will.’ She spat at him ‘Because it is true.’ Just as true as the words within a letter that was sent and had exiled him along with her and her children. ‘I admit to that Cersei. But there is one thing that is awry. Why am I here? You never wanted me to come with you yet I am. Why?’

There it was. That one question. The question she never wanted to answer. Never planned to answer. And somehow, she didn’t even want to lie to him about it. She just didn’t want to tell him what she did.

‘How would I know? As I recall it was Lord Varys who refused you entry to the keep once you left it.’ He kept his grey eyes steadily locked with her emerald ones as he quietly but without any hint of emotion asked ‘So you had nothing to do with it? Some sort of a spur of the moment revenge you have come to regret?’

There was no way she could get out of this now. Leaving was admitting her guilt but staying would have the same result because she had never lied to him nor would she. He would know in any case. For another moment she hesitated before turning back towards him.

‘I wrote a letter and told him a few things.’ It was still vague and not the entire truth, but she hoped it was enough for him to drop the topic. All she got was a sigh. As if he had always known but never had spoken of it.

But instead of sending her away as she had half expected he patted the mattress next to him. ‘Please Cersei. Let us talk. Sit down.’ She saw him swallow but didn’t move even when his tone became pleading.

‘You can’t have forgotten these last days. No matter what you did back there. Something came back when we got stranded here. Something that I haven’t felt in a long time.’ But she shook her head. Even if his pleading had effect on her she didn’t show it.

Her voice was hoarse with regret as she stated ‘I think it was a mistake. These past days.’ She hesitated for a moment before adding ‘All you ever brought me was pain and suffering.’ But Ned shook his head.

‘And to me they still were no mistake. These days since I woke up. They showed me that it isn’t over. That my feelings for you are still there. And I hoped so were yours for me.’ Remaining standing where she was she asked ‘Are you sure about that Eddard Stark? I managed well enough without you.’

He shook his head sadly ‘I can only tell you what I feel. I missed you. Missed being with you like we used to. I need you by my side. I care for you. More than I ever cared for myself.’ A silence spread through the room after he had gone quiet.

A silence which was heavy with unspoken feelings. Feelings that his words had stoked within her. Accusations. You never cared. You let me suffer. You let me bring forth this dead child on my own. She wanted to scream at him. Rage. Throw everything that had been bothering her for over a decade regardless of how she would hurt him in the process. And herself.

All that happened was the heavy silence that hung over the room. ‘Got nothing else to say Stark? She asked as she turned towards the door. ‘Great then I can leave. I have other things to do than standing around this room and listen to you bleating about missing and caring about me when you obviously don’t.’


	23. Musings

As she strode towards the door she could feel his eyes following her every movement. She knew that she had hurt him when she heard the deep, disappointed sigh. ‘I always loved you Cersei. Just you.’ She knew that he meant it. After all she still knew him better than most people did.

Yet she didn’t turn at his words, didn’t want him to see the effect her rant and his words had on her. And her icy voice betrayed nothing of the turmoil on her inside as she snapped back ‘Well that’s good for you Eddard Stark isn’t it? Because you loved me then too?’ Her voice turning slightly bitter at the last part.

His voice was urgent as he begged her ‘Look at me Cersei. Look me in the eye and tell me that your feelings for me are gone. That nothing but hatred and spite are left.’ She shook her head briefly, the pain and hurt in Ned’s voice hitting their mark deep within her.

Turning her head but a little so that she could see him from the corner of her eye but not more she replied almost inaudibly ‘I never said that I hate you Eddard. You hurt me. More than you think, more than you can imagine. It makes me wonder if I ever could love you again as much as you hope I could. If even a tiny fraction as much.’

And as she expected he started to beg again. She hated it when men, or women, begged. It made them look so weak. And it certainly didn’t become this particular man. He didn’t need it.  And especially not with her. But she was her own mistress now and no begging would make her change her mind. Which made Ned even more despisable for it.

She only could repeat herself. ‘I don’t know if I can or will Ned.’ In a purely physical way she still felt very attracted to him. He was still tall and muscular without one gram of fat. His brown hair had become silver streaked as had his beard. His face and especially those grey eyes still held the same charisma that had attracted her to him all those years ago in Harrenhal.

His slightly roughened voice pulled her from her musings. ‘We have a second chance at this Cersei. However it came to. We shouldn’t ignore it and toss it away.’ But she turned away again, shaking her head again. ‘I don’t know. It might be the wisest choice to do just that.’

Quietly closing the door behind her, she left before he could reply anything. Aimlessly wandering the halls, gardens and long marble tiled corridors of the Thereos mansion her thought kept returning to one thing Ned had said. A chance.

But did they really? That was the question her thoughts kept revolving around. Did they really have a chance after what they did to each other? After their history? After all the pain and suffering? Could she imagine a life at the side of this man?

And while the answer to all but the last question was a very reluctant yes it felt wrong to her to imagine a life with him. Not only because Robert Baratheon and Catelyn Tully still lived. But also because of their children. Of their current situation.

They were strangers in a strange land. Unknowing in the customs and manners. They couldn’t go back to Westeros either. Robb would kill her, Tywin would kill Ned, and Robert would kill them both. But she also didn’t want to fend for herself in this place. Maybe there was a solution in the middle.

The screech of a metal blade being parried by another immediately shifted her attention back to the real world. For a moment a thousand thoughts shot through her mind. Who could the intruder be? Why would he come? Who sent him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a regular post schedule now so this is back on track


	24. Calm and Wonder

Only after a moment she realized that she had wandered into a part of the house that was completely unknown to her. She stood in some sort of open corridor that ran around a tiled, open atrium.

And as she looked around she realised that her overworked and overstressed mind had fooled her. In the sun flooded square two young men were dancing back and forth with their slender swords slashing and parrying under the watchful eye of their fencing master.

She was about to turn back the way she came when she realised something. Double taking a look at the two boys she saw that indeed one of them was her older son. The other Oona’s son Faolan. She shook her head. Although she was glad that Joffrey finally found something to do she still feared for him.

‘Your son is becoming quite the challenge for Faolan.’ Ralon’s deep voice next to her ear made her jump. She hadn’t heard him approach her. Without taking her eyes off the two boys she replied, ‘He was quite upset earlier at how much better your son was at fencing.’

She could hear the amusement in his voice as he stated, ‘Well he wasn’t wrong about that.’ Shoes shifted over the marble before Ralon continued ‘I take it Joffrey hadn’t had many fencing lessons in King’s Landing?’

Shaking her head, she replied ‘Except the obligatory stick fighting and one or two lessons with Ser Barristan not. He preferred the crossbow and hunting to sword and war.’ That and the fact that whenever he got bruised he’d threaten his opponent with beheading for striking the crown prince.

To her surprise Ralon laughed softly at that. ‘He’s quite a character your son.’ That was certainly one way of putting it she mused as Ralon continued ‘I wanted to take Faolan on a hunting trip up the Royne and would extend the offer to Joff to join us if you allow.’

Her first intention was to right out deny his request. They were exiles and leaving the protection of this house, of the city was inviting unnecessary danger. Yet when she saw the two boys fight, laugh and shout encouragement at each other she knew that she had to take the risk.

Hesitantly she nodded. ‘How long will you be gone? And just the three of you?’ Ralon smiled reassuringly ‘About a week I guess. We’ll take two of the household guards and a barque up the river for a day before striking out into the hills on foot and with horses. Nothing any family wouldn’t do every few months Cersei. It’s safe.’

Reluctantly she agreed ‘If Joffrey agrees why not. It is good to see him have a friend here.’ Actually, she added in her thoughts, to have a friend at all. ‘I love my children Cersei, just as you love yours. I wouldn’t let them come to harm.’ Ralon reassured her.

Again, she nodded, only slightly reassured. Lapsing into silence they remained in the shadow of the columns and continued to watch the two boys practice. After a while they changed weapons and began practicing their skills with crossbow and longbow respectively.

A few hours later the two families were sitting down for dinner in the little open garden she already knew so well. She supposed it was something like the main family meeting place in the house. Whomever you were looking for you’d find them here sooner or later.

The boys had taken a bath and changed into their evening attire while happily chatting about the upcoming hunting trip. It was interesting to listen to them mangling both the Common Tongue and Valyrian almost beyond recognition but still understanding each other.

She supposed that once you found a common topic to talk about language didn’t matter as much. Myrcella however didn’t see too amused. About the hunting trip and the fact that Faolan hadn’t spoken more than a few words to the girl at his side for the entirety of dinner.

She was about to ask her if she would want to make a little excursion as well when the two boys got louder. Turning their attention on then she caught the words longbow, superior crossbow. Sighing she wanted to interrupt them before it got out of hand.

She knew how much value Joffrey placed on the weapon of his choice and how much he despised the longbow as a peasant’s weapon. But it was Ralon who calmly defused the situation and turned the fight into a competition for the upcoming hunt. Which weapon would prove the better suited for hunting.

She admired Ralon’s calm and ability to settle the beginning fights between the two boys. Both Joffrey and Faolan had tempers on them that weren’t easy to handle once kindled. Nodding gratefully to Oona’s husband before letting her gaze drift around the table.

Only now she realized that Tommen was nowhere to be seen. The boy was always so quiet that it was easy to miss him. Perhaps he had been there and after finishing his meal taken the chance to slip away during the weapons discussion.

Turning to Myrcella she asked, ‘Where is your little brother?’ An expression she couldn’t quite place crossed her daughter’s face for a fleeting moment before the girl answered reluctantly. ‘I saw him earlier, carrying his kitten and whispering to him that they were going to visit… Uncle Ned.’

Narrowing her eyes at Myrcella the girl’s shrugged. ‘It’s what he said mother.’ She was pretty sure that it wasn’t. Having noted the short break in which Myrcella apparently had been looking for another word to replace whatever Tommen had said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I also found my old hard drive and in addition to a bunch of photos I also found the entire outline and drafts for this fic. So I will, to a point where they end, be able to post a chapter every day or so.
> 
> keep those comments and kudos coming. They mean the world to me!


	25. Whispered tones

After dinner was over she excused herself from Oona and Ralon who stayed behind as they always did after dinner. Joffrey and Faolan strolled off to check their gear and Myrcella was left pouting before Oona’s twins dragged her off to show her some new dress.

Hesitantly she moved down the corridor that led to Ned’s sick room. She knew that she still didn’t have an answer for him. Or at least not the answer he wanted to hear. That was something she supposed she wouldn’t be able to give him for quite some time.

When she came to the door leading to the room she found it closed for the first time in a while. Immediately she started to worry again but scolded herself for it right away. She wasn’t supposed to fret like this was she?

Lifting her hand, she knocked tentatively on the door. As no answer came she carefully pushed it open. After her eyes had adjusted to the semi darkness around her, she found herself having to smile at the sight that greeted her.

Tommen lay nestled against Ned’s chest with the man’s arms securely holding him and preventing the child to fall off the bed. Ned himself seemed to have fallen asleep judging by the deep and regular breaths.

She was about to turn around and quietly leave as to not to disturb them when a movement in the corner of her eye made her turn back to the bed. Arty mewed softly from the chair she had left standing next to the bed. Apparently, he had been sleeping there and she had woken him.

Following a sudden notion, she went over and scooped the black and white ball of fur from the chair. Scratching it gently as Arty nestled into her hand. She noticed for the first time how comfortable the little kitten fit into her palm.

‘So, you’re watching over then Arty?’ She asked with a quiet voice as the kitten began to purr. Another sound drew her attention away from the furball and she turned to the bed. Ned was shifting and grumbling something but not quite waking yet.

Deciding to leave rather than disturbing them any further she sat the kitten onto the ground. Faster than she had thought possible Arty had jumped onto the bed and started pawing at Ned’s nose. Although she couldn’t determine if it was to play or to get attention it did look cute.

After a while the kitten got angry and mewled, hitting harder. Ned’s eyes opened, and he complained ‘Ouch. That’s not exactly a nice way to be woken Arty.’ Without moving too much he grabbed the kitten, which seemed to disappear in his rough, calloused hand.

Setting it onto the chair and settling back against the pillows. Only now he seemed to notice her standing at the door. He raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged ‘I was looking for Tommen. Myrcella said he might be here.’

As she spoke Arty had hopped back onto the bed. Carefully Ned lifted him off again ‘Don’t do that, you’re waking your owner little one.’ She raised an eyebrow herself ‘Reasoning with animals now, are we Stark?’

Her tone was quiet as to not wake Tommen and a slight tease had crept into it. ‘Didn’t think me capable of that Cersei, did you?’ He returned in the same slightly teasing tone. She chuckled drily, her earlier thoughts banned to the back of her mind for the time being as she replied, ‘I think by now, Eddard Stark, I wouldn’t put anything past you.’

Before she could do anything Arty had jumped back onto the bed and curled up on Tommen’s legs. Shaking her head at the cat she stated before Ned could reply ‘I was looking for my son after he didn’t show up at dinner.’

A faint smile played around Ned’s tired eyes. ‘Well as you can see Tommen is here. As to you other son I’m sorry to disappoint. He hasn’t shown his nose here since we arrived.’ Nothing new there she mused to herself. Joffrey had never been one to visit sickbeds.

Offhandedly she mentioned ‘Joffrey was at dinner. He, Ralon and Faolan are planning to head into the hills for a bit of hunting tomorrow.’ She was wondering how to get Tommen back to his room and into his own bed without waking him up.

Ned seemed surprised by that. Carefully sitting up a little he asked, ‘So he and Faolan are slowly getting along better?’ She shrugged ‘Yeah. I suppose they do. It’s probably good for Joff to have an older companion who gives a fig about his threats.’

Instead of a reply Ned gently patted the empty space next to him and the boy. ‘Won’t you sit down Cersei? My neck is getting a bit stiff.’ Rolling her eyes, she scolded softly ‘You are truly an impossible man Eddard Stark.’

But he had the right of it. If she was staying she might very well sit down. Pulling up the chair just until out of his reach before sitting down. Returning her gaze to Ned she could see that he was about to say something really stupid. Like Stark stupid.

But before she could even open her mouth he talked right over her ‘I guess I am impossible. Impossibly in love with you. Still. After all those years.’ Like she had feared. Stark stupidity. Rolling her eyes in annoyance she wondered for a split moment if they’d get stuck like that if she kept doing it.

‘Madly in love are we Lord Stark?’ Her tone now taking a slight turn into dismissiveness. His smile making her even more annoyed as he stated softly ‘I never stopped loving you. At Winterfell. When you came in Robert’s retinue. I stood in front of your door one night. Wanting to knock, to talk, to hold you.’

Coming to the conclusion that from now she’d walk around with her eyes stuck backwards from the rolling she crossed her arms in front of her chest ‘Well, you’re not helping your cause Stark.’ His mentioning of Winterfell made her shiver slightly.

 She hadn’t wanted to go. She had even begged Robert not to make her come. But he had insisted and made it clear that staying behind was not an option. She had feared seeing him again. Pulling on barely closed wounds.

She heard Ned sigh, pulling her from her dark thoughts. ‘I think I wouldn’t be helping it if I cut out my heart and present it to you on a platter Cersei.’ She followed his eyes as they fell onto the sleeping boy in his arms.

She could see in his eyes what he thought. That this little boy could have been his in a different world. Under different circumstances. ‘A fish could never replace the lioness.’ Even though the whisper was faint she heard it as grey eyes found green.

She had been about to snap back at him for the heart comment, but the whisper and his eyes silenced her. Only a weak whisper escaped her instead ‘And yet she did. She bore you the children I couldn’t. Heirs, beautiful daughters.’

Not dead babes like the one she had brought forth under all that pain and blood so many years ago. It had been a sweltering summer day. The windows had been opened and the maids had talked in hushed voices. The child had been a boy.

Again, it was Ned’s voice that pulled her back before she could drown in the memory. ‘As if you wouldn’t have given me children if we had married Cersei. And even if not. Who would have cared?’ But I bore you a son and he died she wanted to say but didn’t.

As she watched him tousle Tommen’s hair softly she was certain he wasn’t even realizing it. ‘You have beautiful children Cersei. Like this little man here. I could be their father. Even if not their physical one. I could be their legal father if you so wish.’

But she found herself shaking her head. ‘He isn’t your son Ned. He’s Jaime’s as is Joffrey.’ Sighing she turned her head slightly away as she stated confidently ‘You made your choice and I made mine back then. And I rued it every day until I got over it. Over our dreams. You were gone, and I was left with Robert. And that was how I thought it would always be.’


	26. A Mess

‘I asked your father for your hand.’ The sudden admittance startled her to her core. ‘I sent more than one letter to your father, requesting your hand in marriage. Almost immediately after the tourney and then again after the war. I never got a reply. Not even a no.’

For a moment the meaning of what he had just admitted and what her father had done left her speechless. After a few fruitless tries at formulating words she managed to almost choke out ‘You did what?’ Her head was spinning.

Ned took a breath before repeating ‘I wrote several letters to your father, asking for your hand in marriage Cersei. Asked him what he wanted for you. Told him that I’d be willing to negotiate the North’s independency with Robert. To make you Queen in the North. He never once replied.’

She shook her head in disbelief. Not because of whet her father did. But of Ned’s actions. ‘Of course, he wouldn’t.’ stating quietly. She and Robert had been as good as married by then in her father’s eyes. He wouldn’t exchange the king of the Seven Kingdoms against the Lord of a barren wasteland.

In addition, it actually had been her who had wanted a fast marriage. She had already been pregnant then. With Ned’s child. And barely able to conceal it anymore under her dresses. Robert had been over the moon when she had told him she was pregnant and devastated after the child had died.

Ned’s gaze on her was slightly confused ‘So he never gave you my letters? Never told you about my proposals?’ She shook her head, still slightly dazed. ‘No. Not one of them reached me. It broke my heart to think you had moved on just like that. Married the Tully girl without a thought on what we had.’

‘I thought about you Cersei. I remembered our promise. It kept me alive during the war.’ A slight sigh escaped him, and Tommen shifted slightly in his embrace. Blessed was he with his deep child’s sleep she thought.

‘I never wanted to marry Catelyn. I had to be forced after Brandon died.’ The confession was almost inaudible. But she understood ‘As I was Ned. We had no say in our marriages.’ Even though she had carried his son then. But she had sworn to herself that he’d never know about the child. Never.

A dry chuckle came from the man on the bed ‘I had them build a sept in Winterfell. For you so you’d have a bit of home there.’ Turning her head, she evaded his gaze, not wanting him to see her blush ‘You know I don’t pray right Ned?’

Sighing deeply before shrugging ‘What use is it to discuss the past in any case? It’s done. We’re here now and likely can’t ever go back. You and I and my children.’ And if things continued like they did Myrcella wouldn’t want to return to Westeros.

‘I wanted to bring the South to the North for you. A sept was a start.’ A soft smile passed over his lined face ‘And you’re right. But we need to make the best of it now. For you, for me, for your children. Give them a life worth having.’

Now she was blushing even harder ‘You didn’t have to bring the South north Ned. Not for me, not then. I’d have come the moment you called. And I would have been the happiest wife in Westeros because I would have been at your side.’

Shaking her head and whiling the blush down she added with a sad tone to her voice. ‘But those times have gone Ned. And they won’t return either. I’m not the girl I was then. Full of love and excitement at a secret affair. I don’t know if I can still love you. Still be excited at the prospect of being married to you. And in case you haven’t noticed. We’re both already married.’

Her sadness was mirrored in his voice as he replied, ‘I called for you, but the words never reached you.’ Maybe a shimmer of hope crept into his eyes and maybe she was imagining things as Ned urged her ‘I know Cersei. Believe me I know. However, I believe we could and should try.’

She just continued shaking her head. It was getting too much for her. She had never been any good at confrontations about her past. ‘I don’t know Ned. I just don’t know, and I can’t think about it now. I just know that I changed so much during those sixteen years. I’m not that woman you fell in love with. Not anymore.’

A smile crept onto Ned’s face ‘You’re still that woman Cersei. The way you behave, the way you move. You just grew up. Just like I did. But inside we’re still the same.’  He shifted a little on the bed pulling Tommen and a complaining Arty with him.

Tapping the now free space on the bed she heard him ask ‘Come and rest Cersei. You need it. And I think you want it as well. We will just wait and see how it goes.’

Torn. That was the emotion she felt most. Confusion. Temptation maybe. Loss. Or Despair. She rose from the chair ‘I… I can’t.’ she managed before leaving. Almost running through the door sobbing. Not hearing him softly call after her.

She hardly felt the tears streaming down her face as she hurried back to her room. Almost running and getting her dress tangled around her legs. Her mind was all over the place. She hadn’t cried in years. Not since the day her firstborn had died.

And yet everything she had just told him was true. She no longer was the naïve nineteen-year-old girl that had fallen hard. Not only for a handsome second son but for the thrill of a secret, forbidden relationship.

The same girl who had once dreamt of a love marriage in a world where fathers made matches for gain of land, money and reputation and not because their daughters and sons fell in love. And whose dreams had been smashed because of just those reasons.

She had lived through a loveless marriage and sought comfort in the arms of her twin brother. She had born four children, lost one. Three were her brother’s. She had betrayed father, husband and brother. She had loved. And that would be her consolation prize.


	27. An odd feeling

She had cried herself to sleep that night. Lying amongst the plush pillows and heavy coverlets. Sobbing quietly into the deep red velvet. The curtains drawn close and making it impossible to judge the time when she finally drifted off.

And when she did she dreamt. Images of times long gone floating in front of her eyes. Harrenhal, the snowy night they had kissed for the first time in that gods wood. About the nights in Riverrun. About that one feast they got terribly drunk.

About the moment she learned their son had died. About his plea to come back to him. About her marriage with Robert, whom she had betrayed and never loved and her affair with Jaime, whom she had used. About her father whom she had willingly and knowingly betrayed in every way.

When she woke the next morning, she felt like she had the morning after the feast. Her head was pounding, and she groaned in pain. Hungover without wine. Great. And she still wasn’t sure. She still had no answer to Ned’s plea. She didn’t know if she could fall in love with him again. The way she had fallen before. The way he wanted her to fall for him.

A timid knock on the door finally pulled her out of her thoughts. They kept going in circles and circles and driving her crazy. ‘Mother?’ Myrcella’s voice sounded through the wood. ‘The men are leaving in an hour and you already missed breakfast.’

She cursed under her breath. This damned man. She was losing it because of him. She was turning into a lunatic. ‘I will be there in a few minutes Myrcella.’ She called back and heard how feet shuffled away.

Quickly stepping up to her wardrobe she pulled open the cedar wood doors and ran her fingers over the exquisite fabrics that her dresses were made from. Reaching up she pulled a crimson silk dress trimmed in gold.

Shaking her head, she hung it up again before looking at the white and grey Volantene gown. Again, it went back into wardrobe. In the end she settled for a Westerosi dress made from a deep green velvet. It was quite unsuited to the warmth of Volantis but then it had been made for the Lady of Winterfell.

In a way it had been a parting gift from Ned. Even though they hadn’t known it back then. And she had always treasured it through the years. Rarely wearing it so it wouldn’t wear down. Always making sure it still fit her.

When she arrived in the atrium the three men were already dressed for their trip, Joffrey seemingly having borrowed clothes from Faolan that had been fitted to him by an expert hand. Her son carried his beloved crossbow on his back while Ralon and Faolan had their hunting bows slung over their shoulders. The horses were waiting in the yard.

She greeted them with a smile and apologised for her tardiness. As she hugged Joffrey he stated ‘Mother, I see you’re finally back in Westerosi garb. What a relief I was beginning to think you had turned savage.’

A quick look told that Oona, Ralon and Faolan had understood the Westerosi words but were pretending not to while Myrcella simply rolled her eyes at her brother. She continued to smile mildly as she replied ‘I do from time to time you might find. Whatever suits me to wear that day.’

Ralon couldn’t bite back a little chuckle at that as he clasped Joffrey’s shoulder. Stating in his heavily accented Common Tongue ‘Well you’re wearing the garb of the savages without complaint young man.’

Turning to the rest of the party he announced in Valyrian ‘And now we really should get going if we want to reach Therys before nightfall.’ Joffrey still stood rather dumbfounded as the good luck wishes were given.

Until a breathless Tommen almost bowled him over. Skidding to a halt before his big brother and blabbing out a muffled ‘Am sorry. Bye Joffy.’ Without breaking step, he turned and was off again, Arty hot on his heels as the company save Joffrey broke into laughter.

‘Now there’s a man on a mission.’ Ralon commented as they headed to the courtyard and the grooms hurried to lead up the horses and load the pack mules. She found herself hugged by both Ralon and Faolan while Joffrey only nodded at her. After a kiss for Oona Ralon mounted and they were on their way.

She had a feeling in her gut that the trip wouldn’t end well and said as much to Myrcella and Oona. The other women just shook their heads. ‘You’re getting old and fretful Cersei.’ Oona teased while Myrcella staunchly declared ‘They won’t get hurt. Nothing will happen to them. She only hoped they were right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a short one. The next one will make up for it I promise


	28. We need to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first. Apologies for the delay. This one was a true beast in both length and emotion. I hope you will enjoy this

After Oona and Myrcella had left to examine some of the new deliveries she went off to search for her youngest. Somehow, she had a hunch as to where he might be headed in such a hurry. And true to her suspicion as she rounded the corner she saw Arty’s tail disappear into Ned’s room.

She supposed that Ned’s fatherly treatment of the boy encouraged Tommen’s behaviour. Just like, as she realized, Oona taking along Myrcella on her duties taught the girl how to run a Volantene household. Or a household in general and the girl blossomed under the tutelage.

As she approached the door the soft voices of Ned and Tommen drifted towards her. And made her hesitate for a moment. It appeared that all her children had made their decisions about the future and thereby taken her own decision out of her hands.

Because she was still torn. And with each passing day she became more annoyed. Why didn’t Ned want to see, why couldn’t he see that she no longer was the girl he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had loved a shadow. An illusion all these years and now projected his wish upon the woman the girl had become.

Stepping closer she heard Ned scold the boy softly at Tommen’s declaration that he wanted to spend the day with him, but Tommen refused to do as bid. Stepping inside she stated calmly but with a slight scolding tone ‘Lord Stark is quite right Tommen.’

She still refused to call him anything but by his title in front of the children ‘You need a bath and a change of clothes. And Rowen asked for you and Arty. She misses you.’ But the boy still refused to comply ‘Tommen. Run along now. I need to speak to Lord Stark alone.’ Her voice just that tad bit sterner than necessary.

Finally, Tommen strolled out of the door, chanting some old children’s rhyme as he picked up a wayward Arty and disappeared. With a slight roll of her eyes she closed the door before pulling up the chair. Sighing a little as she brushed off a handful of cat hair.

Ned’s eyes lit up at the sight of the gown. ‘You look radiant Cersei. The gown fits you perfectly.’ An eyebrow shot up in mild amusement ‘I do seem to recall that it was in fact made for me.’ A low chuckle came from Ned ‘I know. I had it made for you for your twentieth birthday if I recall correctly.’

Nodding a small smile formed on her lips ‘You do. And I have treasured it always. It’s the only dress I took with me from Casterly Rock when I married Robert.’ Without giving him the chance to even reply to it she gestured to the blanket that covered his injured leg ‘May I have a look?’

After a slight hesitation he nodded. ‘At least it doesn’t feel like the leg is exploding any more. Aleros did good work. Go ahead and check on it if you want to.’ She didn’t really want to see it again. She had just asked to distract him from the dress and dragging up old memories again.

Still, she wasn’t a coward and so lifted the blanket. Thanking every god that he actually was wearing pants under it. Yet she had to admit that he was right about the state of it. The angry red of the scar had faded to a fainter pink. Yet it still looked less a leg than some odd piece of meat with a foot at the end.

‘It does look better. Aleros really knows what he is doing.’ Ned nodded as she pulled the blanket back over the leg, unable to stand the sight any longer ‘Unfortunately however he still doesn’t allow me to put any weight on it.’

Shrugging as she off handed stated ‘I suppose it won’t be long now.’ She fell silent again, her hands slightly twisting around each other in her lap, ruffling the green velvet. Finally, she quietly stated ‘Tommen likes you.’

‘I think so yes. And I like him. He’s a jolly little boy.’ She sighed deeply and without preamble asked the question that had been bothering her for a while now. ‘What do you see in me Ned? I’m no longer that teenager from the godswood. I’m no longer the woman you think you love. You love a shadow Ned, a dream.’

His expression became serious as he reached out to gently take her slender hands into his big, calloused ones. ‘I see a strong and proud woman. A woman that was treated very badly by those she trusted. Her father, her husband, unfortunately also by the man she loved.’

‘I see not only the most beautiful but also the most intelligent woman I know. You’re ambitious and cunning and you don’t shy away from taking the measures you think right. You know exactly what you want. I admire that. I always will.’

His face became softer, a little smile appearing ‘I see the Lioness of the Rock. The Lioness I’ll always love. No matter how much she might change. Because she always has and always will be that fierce and strong woman.’

I killed Jon Arryn. I wanted to kill Robert but failed. But how could she tell him that? And why was she thinking about that now after he had declared his love in such a fashion that her stomach once again had dissolved into a million butterflies like it had all those years ago?

How could she tell him that she had ordered his foster father’s death, who had been more like a father to him than Rickard ever had been. That she had attempted to kill his best friend who was more a brother to him than Brandon had been.

Secrets. That was what stood between them now and hadn’t before. A wall that couldn’t be torn down easily if at all. As if he had sensed her mood swing he gently squeezed her hands. ‘Whatever you did Cersei. It’s in the past. In Westeros. We can move on from it.’

Pulling her hands out of his grip she sighed ‘If it were only that easy Ned. If only we could move on like it was nothing and move to another place, invent another history.’ Shaking her head sadly she rose from the chair and moved to the window, looking over the serene calmness of the inner city and the bustling madness of the outer one.

Turning back to the man sitting on the bed she stated coolly ‘You’re married, have children in Westeros. I am married unless Robert has dissolved the marriage. There is nothing I’d love to do more than restart my life.’

‘Be nineteen again. But I can’ And neither can you. It was a dream. But it will never come true.’ Again, she turned to the window. Her thoughts roaming miles away as he stated ‘I suppose Robert did. Which makes you a free woman Cersei.’

He shifted a little, sitting up straighter ‘You still need time Cersei. To think abut it all and consider your options. I accept that. It honours you.’ His tone changed slightly as he continued ‘I only know that you will always be my lioness.’

Snapping out of her thoughts she scolded ‘I’m no one’s person!’ Taking a breath, she laughed lightly ‘I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean it like that.’ Sighing she shook her head. Yes, maybe she did still love him. Probably. But she felt like something was holding her back from saying so. From acting on it.

‘I wanted you to return so badly.’ She admitted as she took up her previous spot on the chair again. ‘And when you did. When you came south to be Robert’s hand. It was so disappointing. Because we fought so much. Because you put him over me and betrayed me.’

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision. No more secrets ‘And I betrayed us.’ For a moment Ned seemed taken aback. Then he seemed to gather implication ‘With your affair with Jaime? I knew about that.’

Keeping the eye contact she sat up a little straighter. She didn’t flinch when she sated ‘With Jaime, yes. But as you said you knew about it.’ She paused. This proved to be harder than expected. ‘And to Robert.’

Without giving him the chance to reply she ploughed on ‘You might remember that my maid left right after you came to the dock? She was carrying a letter. A letter to be placed solely in Robert’s hands. Telling him about us.’

‘That’s the reason why Varys wouldn’t let you return to the keep. You’re just as exiled as I am.’ His expression got sad as he replied ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I hurt you so much that you saw no other way.’

She swallowed hard. Still torn. She wanted to tell him that she loved him still. But the only thing that she managed was ‘Yes you hurt me. You hurt me so much that I didn’t believe that I could recover from it. And then you had me exiled. My heart broke. My life broke.’

He shook his head. His voice was full of remorse and despair as he said ‘I would have made sure that you returned as soon as possible. I wouldn’t have been able to stand the thought of you and your children roaming the world unprotected.’

The tears threatened to spill again.  Why was she crying so much recently? That wasn’t at all like her. ‘You didn’t come back to get before. Sixteen years I waited for you Ned. Sixteen years in which hope slowly and painfully died. Ripping me apart.’

Again, he whispered hoarsely ‘I’m sorry Cersei. I’m sorry I made you suffer so much.’ She waved her hand impatiently. Not wanting to hear his apologies any longer. She knew they were heartfelt but that didn’t help her.

‘And now? We’re stranded here. In a place my children can communicate better than me, depended on a family I barely know. Should we leave this house one day we would have to almost start from zero.’

She shrugged ‘We would likely pass as husband and wife. Most people seem to think that we’re married already in any case. But it’s wrong. I don’t want to live like that. Not knowing what goes on over there.’ She gestured to the window, meaning Westeros.

‘I don’t want to pretend to be somebody’s wife when I am still married. I don’t want to be in love with you, have a relationship with you while I am still married to your best friend. It’s just…Wrong.’ She was slightly out of breath.

‘I understand.’ He whispered sadly. She swallowed hard ‘I can have him killed.’ She whispered more to herself than to him. Confusion shone in his eyes ‘Whom?’ A shimmer of something dangerous came to her eyes ‘Robert Baratheon.’

Her tone laced with all the disappointment, hate and pain she had build up in almost seventeen years of marriage to the king of Westeros. For a long time, Ned didn’t say anything. She w afraid what it would be when he finally found the words ‘It won’t bring us back to Westeros.’

His tone was neutral, but she knew that he was torn. Robert had hurt her, had taken her from him and yet he was Ned’s closest friend. More of a brother than Brandon or Benjen had been. It made her motives even more questionable.

Thin lipped and with a hard tone she returned ‘No. But it is something I need. To be rid of him and all he stands for.’ She was disgusted by herself. But if they should ever have even the slightest chance at starting anew they would have to let go of the past. No, not let go. Burn it.

Slowly he nodded, giving consent to the assassination of his best friend. Only now it dawned on her how far he was prepared to go to win her back. It did something with her. Taking a deep breath, she stated ‘I don’t know if we can make this work Ned. I don’t know if it can ever work. Even with him dead.’

A faint smile ghosted over the lined features of the man sitting on the bed ‘It can lioness. It can, and it will.’ She had to bit back a smile and a tear at the urgency and emotion in his voice. Taking his hand in hers she briefly squeezed it before rising from the chair, leaving the hand to drop back on the mattress.

‘Even if I do this Ned.’ She paused briefly, considering her words. ‘You broke my heart and you broke my hope.’ ‘And I will repair it. Put back the pieces where they belong. Heal.’ She shook her head ‘I don’t know if it can b fixed again. Sixteen years is a long time Ned. I’m sorry.’

Slowly she turned and headed for the door, feeling the need to digest what had been said. Maybe talk about it all with someone as he softly called after her ‘It can be, and it will be. I promise you.’ His voice hopeful and determined.

Stopping she shook her head ‘Don’t promise something you can’t keep Ned. You did that before.’ ‘I can keep it this time.’ He insisted. Fool. He had insisted, then hadn’t he? How much had he kept that promise? To come back for her and make her the Lady of Winterfell?

She turned, emerald eyes glinting with barely suppressed fury ‘You said that before Eddard Stark! You broke that promise. You broke me.’ His temper flared to meet hers as he shot back ‘And I broke myself as well! So, all I’m doing now is trying to piece us back together. To repair what was broken.’

‘Nothing that once was broken can be put back together again the way it used to be. We can never be who we were before. Never be those lovesick teenagers you remember us to be. I’m sorry.’ Her voice was quiet and heavy with unshed tears. Shaking her head one last time, although unsure at what, she quickly fled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested. The soundtrack for this fic (which also playes in loop while I'm writing this) is that of Mama Mia and Mama Mia - Here we go again. Not the original ABBA songs but the adjusted ones from the movies.


	29. Sage advice from an unexpected quarter

As she walked away from the room the tears she had been holding back through most of their conversation finally threatened to overspill. She closed her eyes, willed them back down. She didn’t want to cry. It only made her situation seem even more hopeless.

‘Mommy?’ The high, worried children’s voice made her open her eyes again. She smiled through the veil of tears at her youngest. Tommen had been sitting on the steps of the atrium and throwing pebbles into the little pond at the corner.

Now he had gotten up and hugged her tightly around her hips. As she leaned down to hug him back he carefully reached out to brush her tears away with his little fingers. Asking with true concern in his voice ‘Did daddy make you cry?’

The name made her halt for a second. Daddy? She wasn’t sure whom Tommen meant. Jaime? No, he didn’t know about it. Robert? But how did he get the idea that Robert made her cry here in Volantis? Only then it dawned on her that he must have meant Ned.

Despite the shock that Tommen apparently had taken to thinking that Ned was his new father, she smiled. ‘No Tommen. We were just talking about sad things.’ For a moment Tommen seemed to consider before stating ‘I am sad too. Leaving Ser Pounce, Lady Whiskers and Boots behind made me sad.’

She had to force back the chuckle that wanted to break out at his words. As serious as she managed she replied ‘Yes Tommen, we were talking about leavening things behind. And I suppose your cats will be well taken care of. And you have Arty now.’ The boy nodded, his eyes lighting up ‘That’s true.’

Sighing a little she detangled herself from the chubby arms. ‘Run along now Tommen for you as is Rowen.’ He rolled his eyes at the mention of Oona’s youngest daughter but obediently let go of her. She felt exhausted again and just wanted to be left alone.

But once again her plans were foiled. As she entered her chamber she found her daughter waiting for her. Myrcella was pacing up and down the length of the room, apparently fuming with anger. She wondered what she had done wrong this time in the eyes of her daughter.

‘Myrcella? Are you alright?’ She called out softly as she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Her daughter whirled around, fury clear in her face. Once again, she wondered where the girl got her temper from as neither her mother nor her father were prone to sudden outbursts.

‘Why? Why do you two always, always have to fight all the time? Why can’t you have a conversation like every normal person on this planet? Why do you always have to hawk back to the past? Why can’t you give it a rest? He’s trying his best and you’re acting like a moron.’

Too stunned to react to the insult she simply replied ‘It’s not as easy as that Myrcella. Nothing is ever black and white.’ Her daughter’s grey green eyes shot lightning at her mother ‘Yes, it is. This is black and white mother.’

‘You never loved the king. You never loved uncle Jaime. You love him!’ Sighing she sat down on the big feather bed, now covered with a red quilt, patting the spot next to her. Reluctantly Myrcella sat down next to her.

Carefully she began ‘I did love him back then. More than I probably realized while it lasted. Then he left. He married the Tully girl as he was supposed to do. He promised that he would come back and get me, marry me. Which of course he never did.’

‘As time went by and it became obvious that my happy girl’s dream had shattered the moment he had left, I didn’t resit my father any longer and married Robert.’ She bit her lip as the tears threatened to make a reappearance.

Myrcella just rolled her eyes at her mother’s story. ‘You still love him. I can hear it in your voice every single time you talk about him.’ Another sigh as she quietly admitted ‘I guess I never stopped loving him.’

‘Then why don’t you tell him?’ Myrcella asked with only a hint of annoyedness in her voice. Shaking her head, she bit back the tears that really threatened to break free now. This wasn’t exactly a conversation she wanted to have. Especially not now. Especially not with her thirteen-year-old daughter.

Yet she still replied ‘I can’t Myrcella. I just can’t. It’s simply that too much happened since then. That I’ve changed too much.’ Myrcella just rolled her eyes. ‘Well the way I see it you both have once and still do love each other. And that is black and white Mother.’

Standing up Myrcella moved to the door before turning around again ‘We’re no longer in Westeros. No longer bound by the ties we had there. Nobody here knows that both of you were, no are, married over there.’

‘Give him a chance mother. Give yourself a chance.’ Her head sank down, her shoulders hanging as she considered her daughter’s words. ‘I don’t want to experience the pain again. The feeling of being abandoned. Of a heart broken Myrcella.’

And she was speaking as much about herself as issuing a warning to her daughter when it came to her relationship with Faolan. Feeling a light touch on her arm she looked up again ‘Mother. We are never going back. He won’t leave you again.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know Myrcella. I can’t think about anything at the moment if I’m honest.’ A gentle squeeze of her shoulder. ‘You seriously need to rest mother. I’m sorry for forcing you into this conversation at this time.’

A mere nod was her answer ‘And I will tell Jayna to draw you a bath.’ Again, a nod. Only when her daughter had already reached the door she looked up ‘Thank you Myrcella.’ A smile appeared on her daughter’s face as she left to find her mother’s maid.

About half an hour later she was submerged in scalding hot water and Jayna gently massaged her head as she gently rinsed the soap out of her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to relax a bit. Myrcella was right and deep inside she knew that.

A tiny tear escaped from under her closed eyelid and rolled down her damp cheek. ‘My Lady? Are you alright?’ ‘Yes, yes Jayna.’ She quickly replied as she wiped away the tear. She felt incredibly drained.

Her thoughts were a never-ending maelstrom. She knew that she couldn’t keep going like this for much longer. Deny her feelings. She would turn mad. Descend into even more of an emotional mess than she already was. She needed to put a stop to it.

As Jayna wrapped her in a towelled she asked her maid ‘Jayna? Could you please fetch Master Aleros once you are done?’ ‘Of course, My Lady.’ She smiled at the maid. It really was one of the things she hated about Volantis.

The slaves. Nobody deserved to be bought and sold like cattle and often enough treated like that. She was glad that slavery had been banned in Westeros eons ago and that Jayna could hand in her notice whenever she wished to. And that she was paid for her service with ore than just food and lodging.

Her maid combed out her hair until it shone like molten gold. Then she helped her lady into a soft, silken bed gown before turning down the bed and stoking the fire. ‘If that’d be all my Lady?’ She nodded ‘Yes thank you Jayna. And don’t forget about Master Aleros.’ ‘Of course, not my Lady. Good night.’ ‘Good night Jayna.’

Not long after Aleros entered quietly. ‘Lady Cersei. What can I do for you?’ He found her sitting at her desk just finishing a letter to her father. After she had finished it she sealed it and pressed her signet ring into the warm wax.

‘I need this to reach the hands of my father as fast as you and your friend can manage.’ Despite trying to sound self-confident and regal her voice wavered with the exhaustion of the past days. Aleros took the scroll and let it disappear into one of his many hidden pockets.

‘I will see to it my Lady.’ She felt him watch her ‘Are you quite alright my Lady?’ Barely shaking her head, she sat down again. Looking at him she quietly said ‘I need to sleep. Without any dreams. Can you do that?’

He seemed to think for a moment before replying with a soft smile ‘Yes my Lady. It seems like you are in dire need of it.’ Her lips turned into a tight line at the insolence of his words, but the old man only chuckled and left.

Within a couple of minutes, the healer had returned. Holding a steaming cup towards her. ‘Drin this Lady. It will give you a long and dreamless sleep.’ Reaching out she tentatively took the cup. He must have sensed her hesitation for he laughed softly.

‘Believe me Lady Cersei. If I, or the people I work with, wanted you, your children or Lord Stark out of the way in a Volantene grave then you would be by now without even realising why. Yet all of you are still here. You can trust me.’

She only gave him a curt nod. ‘Thank you. You may leave now.’ She turned around and to her great relief the old man left. He always made her uncomfortable. Moving to her bed she lay down and wrapped herself into her blankets. Then she slowly lifted the cup to her lips and drank the hot beverage. It tasted like honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note here.  
> I mainly use the books as source materials and only rarley a piece of show detail steals in. Most notably later on Talisa as Robb's love interest.  
> Also that ages business. Going by the books Ned is 37, Cersei and Cat 35. Jon and Robb just turned 16, Joff is turning 15 soon, Myrcella and Sansa are 13. Arya is 11, Bran 9, Tommen 8 and Rickon 4.  
> In the books Tommen also has a non confirmed mental illness, possibly Down-Syndrome or is on the autistic spectrum. Here he simply is a little semi abandoned boy who seeks love and attention. 
> 
> Anyways that said I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it picks up speed
> 
> Ps: as of now this fic passed the 10k hits and I'm one proud writer :)


	30. An Accusation

She woke the next day, feeling refreshed and more alive than she had been in a long time. Possibly not been as alive since before she had left Westeros several moons ago. No dream, good or bad, had haunted her the past night, leaving her with a clear head.

And even though the strain of the past days and weeks seemed to have drained away she still didn’t have an answer for Ned. Or maybe she did. She wasn’t sure. Myrcella’s rant seemed to have opened some doors within her she hadn’t even dared to look at for over a decade.

After getting dressed in a simple sky blue Volantene gown with dark red trimmings she headed over to the atrium for breakfast, even though she knew that she was late as usual. And true to her suspicion it was only Oona left at the table which was still richly laid.

Her friend seemed deep in thought when she greeted her and only smiled very faintly. She wondered what was wrong as she reached out to take one of those delicious crescent shaped flaky pastries. ‘Cersei, we need to speak.’ Oona’s tone made her stop mid bite.

To win some time she slowly chewed and swallowed before replying cautiously but with a rising curiosity ‘What is it Oona?’ The last time she had seen Oona like this was when she had announced that her father was calling her back to Volantis to get married when Oona was staying at the Rock.

And as was Oona’s custom she didn’t beat about the bush but straight out asked ‘Have you thought about what you will do once Ned has recovered enough to lead a real life again?’ She let go of a breath she had been holding without noticing.

So, Oona wasn’t about to kick them to the curb. At least not right away. She sighed a little ‘Not really if I’m honest with you. There have been other things on my mind.’ Like that damned lovesick fool. Or her daughter falling for her friend’s son.

The black-haired woman nodded in understanding ‘You and he should talk about it. I suppose you will want to stay in Volantis?’ She hadn’t really thought about that but when it came down to it the city was as good as any.

Her children seemed to feel at home and especially Myrcella blossomed in the hustle and bustle of the markets and from what Oona told her the society of the place. Joffrey had finally found a friend and Tommen probably was at home wherever he could find cats.

‘I suppose so. I’d have to ask the children and Ned but from my point of view it’s as good a place as any to start a new life.’ Her friend smiled for the first time today, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

‘If you decide to stay. Let me and Ralon know. We’d be happy to help where we can to get you settled. Of course, it would be outside the black wall because you’re not of Volantis but some places out there are better than in here so.’

Once again, she was forced to bit back her tears. But this time they were tears of happiness. She was so moved by Oona’s offer that she simply pulled her into a tight embrace. Mumbling ‘Thank you Oona. Thank you so much. I have no words for what you and Ralon have done for me, Ned and my children since we arrived here:’

Oona returned the hug just as tight ‘We always help our friends Cersei.’ ‘Still thank you.’ She replied as she pulled away from the embrace. After that the rest of her breakfast went by much more relaxed than it had started. The two women were laughing and gossiping like old times.

Afterwards she headed straight for Ned’s room. Something had changed within she realized. She just wondered if she had the courage to act upon it. But for a moment she was relived of that decision as she opened the door on the scene of Ned tickling Tommen with the boy squealing in laughter.

As soon as they spied her Ned stopped ‘Good morning Cersei.’ He greeted as Tomen flung himself at her ‘Mommy!’ Catching the little boy in her arms ‘Hello there Tommen. Don’t tell me that you actually slept here?’

Her tone was only slightly scolding, too amused by his obvious like of Ned. Immediately he looked at his feet. Very contrite as he apologized ‘’m sorry mommy. I just fell asleep yesterday.’ She could see that Ned was just as amused as she was.

Still she forced herself to remain serious as she gently reprimanded him ‘Lord Stark needs to rest and recover Tommen. You must give him some time to himself.’ The little boy was still looking at his feet as he replied ‘Yes, mommy.’

Then he looked up and with all his eight-year-old wisdom declared ‘And his name is Ned. You should know that mommy.’ She couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that. ‘Run along now. I’m pretty sure Arty hasn’t seen anything of you for a while now.’

The boy’s eyes brightened as he was reminded of his pet kitten. ‘Arty! I nearly forgot about him.’ He let go of his mother and ran to the door. When he reached it, he turned around t wave ‘Until later mommy and daddy.’ And with that he was gone.

She was once again caught by surprise at Tommen’s simple adoption of Ned as his father figure. ‘I’ll see you later Tommen!’ Ned called after him and Tommen replied something neither of them could understand.

His eyes shifted towards her ‘You look as radiant as always my Lady.’ She rolled her eyes as she went to close the door ‘I’m literally wearing a simple house gown with mismatched colours Stark. I doubt anyone can be called radiant in this.’

He chuckled softly. You could wear chainmail and fur boots I’d still call you radiant.’ She dipped into a little mock courtesy. ‘Not sure if that was a compliment or not but thank you.’ And after a short moment she added carefully but with a soft smile ‘Husband.’

She had, in that moment, made her choice. It was as if a mountain had rolled off her shoulder. Maybe that was why she had been so glad for Oona’s offer earlier. Because unknowingly her friend had given her that nudge over the edge to which Ned and Myrcella had brought her.

Ned was stuttering but apparently not able of forming a coherent sentence as a rare smile spread over his face. ‘Ned Stark speechless?’ She teased him softly as she tentatively sat on the edge of the bed rather than the chair that now stood slightly lost next to the bed.

‘Yes.’ He managed hoarsely after a while as his eyes never strayed from hers. She turned serious again, the time for being lovey dovey over before it had even started. ‘Ned. If we’re staying here, in Volantis this will be the safest way.’

‘Posing as a married couple with my children as ours.’ And maybe one day the promises they had made to each other all those years ago would be fulfilled. But for now, the safety of her children and their wellbeing was her priority.

After a moment he nodded thoughtfully, the smile on his face. But she could see the disappointment in his grey eyes as he replied ‘You are probably right, as you are most of the time. We have to try to succeed I guess.’

She chuckled nervously to cover the awkward moment that had been created by the two different interpretations of her behaviour. ’I guess we can pull it off. We have, after all, some experience in that.’ Taking his hand to squeeze it reassuringly.

Again, he nodded quietly, not much of an expression on his face. But she felt him squeezing lightly back. ‘I’m sure we can pull it off. We just need to work together, and nobody will notice. Don’t worry. You and the children will be safe.’

She rolled her eyes a little at that ‘Well what use would it be if we worked by ourselves instead of together?’ She paused, hesitant of what else was on her mind. ‘This agreement doesn’t mean that I’m there yet Ned. It means I’m starting to figure it out.’

Another gentle squeeze of her hand ‘And that is all I ask of you Cersei. You know I would ever force a decision from you.’ ‘Thank you.’ She simply replied, watching his finger trace soft circles on the back of the hand he still was holding.

For a long time, there was silence between them, but it wasn’t uneasy as both of them thought on the future. Remembering something she broke the silence ‘Oona and Ralon have offered to help us to establish ourselves here in Volantis once you feel healthy enough to do so.’

Another slow nod ‘It’s very kind of them. After all we’re strangers in a strange place. Finding a way for ourselves would be hard indeed.’ And after a moment he added with a very soft voice ‘I don’t know what I would do without you here. I’d probably be penniless and dead by now.’

Another time her eyebrow wandered towards her hairline. ‘You probably wouldn’t have made it to the city alive.’ She stated remembering her experiments with the sour wine aboard the ship. ‘But yes, I think it’s very kind of them. After all we basically invaded their home without a warning and have long since outstayed our welcome.’

‘That is probably true as well.’ He chuckled as he sat up and leaned against the headboard of his bed. ‘Thank you for the help Cersei. Especially for the wine.’ She just shook her head ‘If you knew how often I asked myself why I did all that for a man I thought I had nothing but hate left for.’

This time it was him who let a dry chuckle escape ‘I always trust in what your eyes tell me. And usually they tell the truth even if your mouth doesn’t.’ She had to smile. Her eyes had always been her weak point, giving her away and betraying her feelings.

She took a deep breath. Preparing to take a jump off the cliff, take a risk. But she was so, so done with keeping her feeling walled up within herself, so deep that not even she herself could reach them anymore.

Softly she stated, her emerald eyes fixed on his dark grey ones ‘I suppose I did it because I couldn’t watch you suffer like that. I still loved you. I still do love you, you thick headed fool Eddard Stark. Guess I never really stopped loving you. Just denied it.’

His smile widened as he replied ‘I still love you as well Cersei. Always have, but you knew that.’ She felt him trying to pull her closer and immediately she pulled the other way. Away from him. She wasn’t quite there yet.

‘Don’t. Please, not yet.’ She felt as if she could cry. Here she was telling him that she still loved him but at the same time she was pulling away from his touch, his caress. Belated she noticed that he had let go of her hand completely as he softly apologised.

She shook her head ‘Don’t apologize either. You did nothing wrong. It is I who has to apologize to you for not being able to give you what you want.’ And what he deserved. And what she wanted. But somehow couldn’t give.

‘It is alright Cersei. Don’t do that to yourself please.’ His voice was gently, understanding et it hurt her nonetheless to treat him like that. Why was this so difficult? Why couldn’t she just return to their relationship? Return his feelings?

‘Take all the time you need Cersei. You know I’ll wait another seventeen years for you if I have to.’ Thankful she grasped for the diversion. ‘I can’t wait to get out of here and start our own household. Don’t take me wrong. I like it here.’

‘But I want to be the Lady of my own house again. And I think some distance between Myrcella and Faolan might be a good idea as well.’ It definitely would she knew. Myrcella was far too engrossed with the young man. With his whole life really.

A little sigh escaped Ned ‘She loves him I suppose. It’s evident in her voice and face whenever she speaks about him Cersei.’ Shaking her head, she replied ‘And That is just what I fear, Ned. They are so much like us all those years ago. I don’t want them to suffer like we did.’

I don’t want her to fall pregnant and bring forth a dead child. I don’t want her to fall pregnant and die in childbed. I don’t want her to suffer the disappointment of love torn apart by arranged marriages. I don’t want to lose her.

Ned smiled sadly ‘Who knows what the future will bring. She is still a princess, or at least the daughter of one of the big houses of Westeros. Maybe Ralon and Oona won’t be so much against a match as you might believe.’

She shrugged ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s just first love and the close living arrangements. Perhaps it will go out by itself after a while.’ And yet here she was. Admitting that her first love still burned as brightly as it always had.

‘And don’t you think that there were arrangements made for Faolan as soon as he was out of his swaddling clothes? They’re part of one of the most important families in Volantis. I suppose there’s some girl waiting for him.’

Again, an almost smile from the man sitting on the bed. ‘As I said Myrcella was born a princess. Is of the richest house in Westeros. And she and Faolan are getting along very well. It’s a good choice.’ She had to smile. Ned and politics. It had never worked.

‘If they would be thinking in terms of the feelings of their children it would work. Alas they, like all high-ranking parents prefer the political side of a marriage. I just don’t want her to suffer. Like I did or Oona before she figured an agreement with Ralon.’

She remembered the weeks after Oona had received her father’s letter to return home. It had barely been more than a few lines. She didn’t know the man she was to marry. And when she did, she didn’t like him. It had taken them years to find a way of living with each other. And of their five children only Rowen could be called to be conceived consensually.

All this was what Oona had entrusted to her letters to her. Just as she had entrusted her sufferings to hers to her friend in Volantis. The life of daughters of noble houses was a difficult one. And if they, like her now, were set free the world seemed daunting.

‘I hope to see you both happy Cersei. Whatever I can do to make it happen.’ And after a break he changed the topic completely ‘Aleros has asked a friend of his to come in today. He hasn’t exactly said what for, but I believe he wants to get me out of this bed.’

Good news indeed. ‘Do you want to stay, or would you rather meet this mysterious friend on your own?’ ‘I’d prefer it if you stayed Cersei.’ He replied softly. Smiling she reached out to take his hand once more. ‘The I shall.’

‘At first I didn’t know what to make of him. If I could trust him. Or if he would be the one to carry out my death sentence.’ He chuckled softly ‘Although I have to be grateful to him now. I guess he saved the damn leg with his surgery.’

Gently she squeezed his hand ‘I had the same doubts. But then we had very little choice I suppose. Aleros once told me that if you had stayed on the ship for another day or two we would have had to bury you at sea.’

A slow nod from him ‘I didn’t think I would survive the journey. It seems that Pycelle did everything in his power to prevent the wound from healing properly.’ Her eyes travelled down to where his now healing leg was hidden by the blanket.

She swallowed. Hard. Pulling away her hand as she whispers almost inaudibly ‘He was instructed to do so. To make sure the wound festered, and you wouldn’t recover.’ ‘He was what?’ Ned shook his head in disbelief.

‘By whom? Who wanted to kill me?’ His voice had gotten dangerously low. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. ‘Jaime did. I did.’ She turned her head to look him into the eye as she continued to speak those damning words.

‘We knew that you had gotten the damned book from that tottering old fool. We realized that it was only a matter of days before you had the truth.’ She shook her head ‘I wasn’t sure if you were going to tell Robert or remain silent. I just didn’t know you well enough anymore to be sure of your decision.’

‘Instead of asking? Instead of simply talking to me you did that? I knew it you know? About Jaime and you. I just needed the proof. But I hadn’t yet decided what to do with it once it was confirmed.’ His voice wasn’t angry. Just of that resigned, deep sadness of someone disappointed by those he trusted most.

She bit her lip ‘It was Jaime’s decision to attack you outside that brothel. He only told me after it happened. So, I gave the order to Pycelle. It was the easiest route.’ She stood up, pacing the length of the room.

‘I couldn’t read you anymore Ned. I didn’t know what you were planning to do. I used to know your very thoughts. But you were so distant, so cold. You had abandoned me.’ Her voice changing between bitterness and regret.

‘I wouldn’t have done anything that would have hurt you or your children. I loved you still.’ She huffed ‘And yet you showed no emotion, no hint of your intention. Never once were you anything but cool and even insulting in your behaviour towards me.’

Her voice dripping with derision as she added ‘And in the end. You did tell him.’ It was his turn to huff indignantly. His voice louder than usual ‘And what if I had been more obvious in my feelings? Do you really believe for one moment we would have been able to stay away from each other?’

‘Well we are able to do just that, now aren’t we? You should listen to yourself Eddard Stark.’ He snorted ‘Keep on denying it Cersei. You know I am right. We wouldn’t been able to stay away from each other in the Red Keep. We would have needed each other too much.’

She shook her head ‘It wouldn’t have changed what I felt. And even if it had. Jaime and I managed to keep our relationship hidden for the better part of fifteen years. Don’t you think we could have done the same?’

Picking up her pacing once again she huffed ‘It doesn’t matter what would, could have been. You did, in the end, betray me.’ The emerald eyes were sparkling furiously. ‘You did that yourself when you refused to leave the city, return to the Rock, wait it out.’

She whirled around ‘You could just have kept it to yourself!’ And there they were again. At the point she knew they would never be able to lay to rest. No matter how close they got, how their feelings for each other grew. This was something she would, for eternity, hold against him.

‘Why is it so important to you? Why was staying on that damned throne so import to you? I will never understand when all I tried was to keep you safe. What if someone else would have discovered what Jon Arryn and I discovered?’

‘I didn’t care about the bloody throne Ned!’ She spat at him ‘I cared about us. About what used to be between us. And you betrayed me!’ Her voice close to breaking, whether from sadness, disappointment or exhaustion she didn’t know.

She could see that he wanted to get up, reach for her. If he had she would have slapped him. ‘Cersei. Please. I didn’t do it for me, of my own will. I did it for you.’ She turned around. Had she heard him correctly?

‘Not by your own will Ned?’ snapping at him ‘Who told you to make threats against me and my children? Force me to abandon my home? Who forced you to run to precious Robert and tell him? Who forced you to walk into Pycelle’s lair and get that book?’ She stopped, slightly out of breath from her rant.

‘And you betrayed me Cersei. Who forced your hand in writing that note and sending your maid to Robert with it? Who forced you to betray both him and me by sleeping with your twin brother and bearing his children? How do you think I felt when I learned of that?’

‘And what of you? Of you betraying Catelyn and your children?’ She paused before placing her accusation ‘What about your bastard? The one no one knows who the mother is. Was it Ashara Dayne?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Was. A. Monster.


	31. Tyko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG things await you .
> 
> Consider yourself warned ;)

‘You should know very well who Jon’s mother is, Cersei. Very well indeed.’ Something was in his voice, something she couldn’t quite place. She was too angry in to care in any case. That bastard had her up in arms the moment she saw him in Winterfell.

‘So, it was that Dornish whore.’ Her voice was dripping with contempt and disappointment. And betrayal. His promises had been empty. The Bastard of Winterfell must have been conceived about the same time as her son, Robb Stark, and Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s bastard.

Ned seemed to get angrier with every passing minute. Snapping at her ‘She wasn’t the mother. I never even had any remotely romantic interest in Lady Ashara. She was a friend to my sister during her time in Dorne. That was all.’

Now the tears did rise. The direction their conversation had taken making old memories come back. She angrily brushed them away, thoughts and tears alike. ‘Then he’s Rhaegar’s spawn I take it?’ That didn’t make it any better.

‘Have care Cersei. It would be Lyanna’s child as well.’ She sniffled rather unladylike. ‘All I know Eddard Stark is that I bore you a son. Nine months after your wedding to the Tully girl. He was dead before he even had the chance to draw breath.’

The memory of that day, of the blood and pain, hit her with its entire cruel force. ‘He’d be of an age with that bastard now. Or your legitimate son. My little Tyko.’ It was the first time she had ever said that name aloud. The name she had given the dead infant as he was carried away. A name to remember him by.

She narrowed her eyes as Ned shook his head. She had had already said too much. She had never wanted to tell him about Tyko. He wasn’t supposed to know about their dead child. About the stain on both their honour.

She could see the emotion pass over his face at her words. Biting her lip, she knew that now was a turning point. Depending on Ned’s reaction her, their future would change. But what worried her the most was the utter confusion on his face.

Having to take a seat on the chair next to the bed as he quietly asked an almost impossible question ‘Did you give birth to twins then Cersei?’ The confusion from his face obvious in the soft voice. For a moment she was too stunned by the question to answer him.

She had just told him about the fact that their son had been stillborn and all he could ask was if she had twins? Something made her reply calmly nonetheless, shaking her head ‘No. Only Tyko.’ She remembered the day. The glimpse she got of the bloody bundle as it was carried away by a midwife.

Again, Ned was mirroring her gesture. ‘Then something went wrong somewhere Cersei. Because Jon was alive when he was brought to me at Starfall.’ While she wasn’t exactly sure she was hearing what she thought she was hearing Ned seemed to have different worries.

‘Someone must have lied to you. Told you that Jon died before he was born but instead had him brought to me at Starfall.’ She almost didn’t believe him. But then Eddard Stark wasn’t known for lying. Not daring to hope as she barely audible whispered ‘Are you telling me that my son is alive?’

Trying to wrap her head around it. To associate the faint kicks in her belly, the bloody bundle and the dark-haired lad she couldn’t remember the face of with each other. She swallowed heavily. The lad did look like Ned she knew. Even if she couldn’t remember his face she remembered the hair. Just like Ned’s had been when he was younger.

Again, Ned’s voice reached her as through a thick fog. ‘I thought that you had agreed to the scheme. To keep Jon safe. That it was your wish that he grew up as far away from the dangers of court. Your wish that he grew up with me.’

Despite the tears that drew tracks down her cheeks her voice was steady ‘After I had given birth I passed out. When I woke again I asked for him, remembering that I hadn’t heard him cry. They just shook their head and I fell asleep again, exhausted.’

She closed her eyes just as she had done then. Again, the room she had given birth in, again the dark almost curls in the wintery courtyard of Winterfell. She hadn’t seen much of him after that. He had been sat with the men at arms at the feast. And otherwise their paths hadn’t crossed. And then he had left for the Wall.

Opening her eyes again she fixed them on the man opposite her. ‘Are you trying to tell me that the boy the world knows as your mysterious bastard is actually our son? My Tyko?’ And then the realisation hit her.

Ned’s voice softened ‘Yes Cersei. Jon is our son.’ That simple statement opened the flood gates and she tried to reach out. Feeling Ned’s hand cover hers and gently squeeze it. ‘I was told that he was stillborn, didn’t hear him cry. They took the body away even before I was cleaned up. I never saw him really.’

He sighed ‘I have an idea about who orchestrated that sorry episode. But he is dead now and it doesn’t help to cry over spilled milk.’ She didn’t really hear him. Still trying to grasp the news. ‘Tyko. Alive.’ She repeated to herself over and over again.

His second and clasped hers over his first. A faint smile on the hardened features. ‘Yes, yes he’s alive Cersei. He asked after his mother, often. But I never told him anything. His biggest wish always was to meet his mother. ‘

‘Why didn’t you tell him Ned? Why didn’t you at least tell me?’ There was no accusation in her voice. Just sadness, the failure to understand his reasons.  ‘’I was made to believe that it was your choice to let him grow up with me, devoid of the knowledge of who his mother is.’

She swallowed hard. Whoever gave the order, whoever separated her from her child definitely hadn’t had either of their best interests in mind. ‘You could have written, let me know how he got on. My little Tyko.’

‘I id want to write. But I was told that the risk would be too great that the king would learn of Jon’s existence. And that due to that Jon’s and your life would be at risk.’ His quiet, calm voice helped her to calm down as well. Even if her thoughts still went around like a hurricane.

An image floated in front of her eyes, the face clearer now than it had been before. ‘He looked so young.’ She attempted to smile through her tears. A pitiful attempt even to her. ‘Like you when we first met at Harrenhal.’

The small smile was mirrored on Ned’s face. ‘Many people say that. He and Arya both. But when you look at his eyes there’s green in them. And there are so many subtle things about his behaviour and appearance that are so obvious to know where he got them from if one knows who his mother is.’

‘I didn’t look that closely. I despised him because he was to me the living proof of your betrayal. It never even appeared to me that it might be Tyko.’ Her voice finally broke and with it the dams that held back her tears.

His hands once again taking hers, gently caressing. ‘I know. I understand you Cersei, your reasons. We were both used and fooled for someone else’s goals.’ For a moment she remained quiet just letting him run his thumb over her hands, his big, calloused hands holding hers so gently.

Her voice almost inaudible as she asked ‘Tell me about him. Please. Tell me about our son.’ She felt him squeeze her hand gently ‘He’s a quiet boy. Always has been. But he’s intelligent, much more like his mother than his father I have to admit. He’s strong and can be quite stubborn.’

Now she really smiled ‘Go on please.’ The tears were still flowing but somewhere in between they had changed from tears of pain to ones of relief. ‘He’s an honourable fool just like his old man. I kept hoping that he’d be more like you. Being honourable might get a little dangerous from time to time.’

She chuckled involuntarily. ‘That is true. Look where it brought you this time.’ Again, there was no malice, no accusation in her voice. Perhaps a bit of good natured teasing. But she was worried. Not knowing where he was now. The war had likely pulled him in as well if it had done so with Robb.

She almost dreaded to ask ‘Where is he now Ned? Do you know? Would he have gone south with Robb?’ She bit her lip. Waiting anxiously for his reply. Of course, she mused he’d have gone with his half-brother. But was it so bad that she wanted him safe behind the walls of Winterfell?

She saw how he hesitated. So, he knew something at least. ‘He left Winterfell the same day as we did. You might remember that your brother accompanied mine back to the Wall. Jon went with them. He chose to take the black and wouldn’t be convinced otherwise. So, Ben took him with him.’

‘Take the black? He wanted to become a man of the Night’s Watch?’ The shock was clear in her voice. The Wall meant exile. The Wall meant that she would never be able to see him, treat him as her son. He was out of her reach.

Ned nodded gravely ‘By now he will have taken his vows. Perhaps even gone on a ranging. I suppose we could sent him a letter through Aleros and Varys but I’m not sure if it would do any good.’ She sighed, Ned was probably right.

She was shaking her head softly ‘He can’t leave the Wall Ned. They would hang him as an oath breaker.’ She hesitated a moment before adding ‘And who knows if he even wants to know that I’m his mother, if he even accepts it. There has been so much bad blood between our families recently.’

Ned nodded as he gravely replied ‘That unfortunately is true. I’m sorry Cersei. Nonetheless we should try. At lease get a letter through to him, let him know. It might help, and it can’t do harm. Or so I hope. Wouldn’t want him to drop everything he was doing and abandon his post.’

They could try. But if her son was anything like his mother he would abandon his post to follow his father’s message and find the truth behind it. But she didn’t say that. Instead she just agreed with Ned. ‘We could try the letter I suppose.’

Suddenly breaking out into a wide smile ‘I somehow still can’t fully wrap my head around this Ned. My little Tyko is alive. It’s.’ She had to break off as her voice threatened to break and pause for a moment before being able to continue ‘It’s just too good to be true. My brain can’t really handle it right now.’

Falling silent again before once more picking up her train of thought. She just had to get everything said out loud that was on her mind right now. We gave him a funeral. And a grave in the Sept of Baelor.’

A few tears escaped her at the memory of the small grave. Of the carefully chiselled name. The only one that didn’t have Targaryen as a last name. The entire chapel at the Sept of Baelor was incredibly sad. A chapel dedicated to give those a place to rest that never drew breath. Or if they did only for a few short days. The infant’s chapel it was aptly named.

Almost not hearing Ned speak over her memories as he replied ‘He is alive Cersei. Whoever you buried in his grave, it wasn’t him. He was at Winterfell. He grew up there. And now he is at the Wall and we ill let him know about his mother.’

Not really comprehending what he said she just kept on rambling ‘I went there whenever it got too much. When things became too difficult to bear. It was a place of peace for me. Of memory. When I was there I was with you and our boy.’

She realised that in a way she had buried not only the remains of their child that day the funeral for Tyko Baratheon was held but also her relationship with his father. All the hope she had left to ever be together with Ned Stark again had been buried under the heavy stone. It had also been the following weeks that she had begun her affair with Jaime. For comfort at first, later as an act of defiance.

His hands gently caressed over her still shaking ones. ‘I understand Cersei. I suppose it brought you comfort when you got none from those around you. If I had known about any of this. I swear I would have told you sooner. I would have let you know that Jon was with me all the time. And I am sorry for my failure in that.’

Again, she only half got what he was trying to say. Her thoughts caught in an endlessly turning, churning hurricane. ‘I’m sorry Ned. I think I might need some time to myself to digest this properly.’ Giving his hands a gently squeeze before letting go and rising from her chair.

‘Thank you for telling me Ned. Thank you.’ At the same time as she said that she knew that the words weren’t enough to covey what gratitude she was feeling towards the man she thought she despised a few minutes ago. She had him back. Her Tyko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Life got in the way. Or rather some damned bronchitis knocked me out cold for the better part of this week. Getting better and back to writing


End file.
